I'd Rather Be In Love
by RZZMG
Summary: Hermione Granger goes to Paris for a wizarding law symposium and runs into Draco Malfoy, who promises to take her on a whirlwind European tour. FIC CHALLENGE! Shagging galore-DxH.
1. Chapter 1: La Ville de L'Amour

**FIC CHALLENGE ISSUED BY ROSE ELEANOR SCHULTZ (requirements listed below):**

_1. Dramione_

_2. Angsty_

_3. has to have a happy ending._

_4. draco and hermione have to meet in odd circumstances._

_5. their meeting has to be forced_

_6. takes place after graduation from Hogwarts_

_7. must have a pair of pearl earrings and a gold diamond ring_

_8. must have a slytherin green tie_

_9. harry can't be a prat but is kinda leery of draco_

_10. no speaking part for ron_

_11. must have smutty goodness_

**Okay, below is part 1 of a multi-part fic. Please review! Would love to hear your thoughts!**

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**I'D RATHER BE IN LOVE**

**By: RZZMG**

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**CHAPTER ONE: **_**La Ville de l'Amour**_

_**May 27, 2004 (Thursday)**_

Hermione Granger was nothing if not systematically prepared. She was, she'd been told by her boss, the very epitome of diligent readiness and disciplined organization – a fact which had helped her achieve her position as Junior Secretary to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement's Deputy Chief in less than six years after leaving the hallowed and beloved halls of Hogwarts. To the former overachieving Valedictorian, planning every detail to produce flawless results was absolutely _not _a social gaff, but a wise, clever endeavor. Which was why she was currently working through her notes again, absently adjusting her fashionable Kate Spade frames on her face from the side to better see her self-prompting cues.

Quelling the nervous butterflies in her tummy, she focused her attention on the assignment. This was an important day in her life: a chance to address her peers at an annual international conference on Wizarding Law (being held in Paris this time around – a city she'd never visited, but had desperately wanted to since her Fourth Year, when she'd made acquaintances with some of the Beauxbatons girls), unveiling her idea to change some of the archaic decrees and regulations on the books for the first time publicly. In order to accomplish that goal, she had to have her 'game face' on; to make sure she didn't blunder over a single piece of information once she was up in front of everyone. And the management of thrice-checked facts was the key to that success!

When she'd drilled her speech into her head again and felt relatively confident of her command of the material, she shut her eyes and vocally regurgitated her memorized opening statements into the mirror in the currently-vacant women's powder room at the conference hall, practicing to perfect them in the quiet solitude:

"_Marriage is a unique institution that defines the human condition. Unlike any other race that we share this world with, it is human kind alone that enters into the rationally calculated agreement of legally binding – not __spiritually__ binding – contracts to dictate our relationships with one another. Centaurs, Veela, Goblins, and Vampires all take life mates, but those relationships are racially and culturally motivated to be irrevocable…"_

The sound of clothing rustling stopped her cold. Was someone here? She hadn't seen anyone come in during the last five minutes since she'd entered. She held her breath, listening for at least a minute. When the sound did not repeat, she convinced herself it was just her nerves and continued her previous engagement:

"_The institution of human marriage, however, holds the single distinction of being emotionally disconnected. It serves as no more than legal precedent that governs the division of property rights, confirms issues of blood purity, defines child custody responsibilities, and influences medical long-term health care decision-making…"_

She stopped again. Had that been the sound of a shoe squeaking against tile? It had certainly seemed like it. But perhaps it was just the old pipes in this place; the building had been around for almost four hundred years, after all.

She cleared her throat and continued:

"_Marriage Laws in the Wizarding World are governed by an archaic, medieval set of codes established under Wizengamot's Decree 50.1 through 59.9, established in 1448 and sanctioned officially by the Committee for Moral…"_

A small moan of what sounded like pain emitted from the furthest stall on the right. Now there was no question. Someone _was_ here with her, and from the sound of it, they might be in trouble. Unfortunately, she couldn't see a bloody thing when she tipped over at the waist to look – not even shoes – as each private chamber was covered by two solid sides and a full-length wooden door that effectively hid away each toilet, giving the user complete visual privacy. It was just typical of the French to be so liberal about social issues, and yet squeamish about the concept of a natural biologic function like using the toilet, she thought ironically.

"Hello?" she called out, stepping off the carpeted area and onto marble stone, heading towards the pink-painted compartment in question. "I'm awfully sorry to pry, but… are you all right?"

The gasp and sigh that came from behind the door at the end was followed by the door itself being banged upon once from the other side. Withdrawing her wand, Hermione was convinced that there might be a medical emergency on-going and hurried over to the stall, reaching for the knob. It was locked. "M'am, _pardonnez moi_, but… well, I don't really speak French," she admitted, stammering over her embarrassment. "But, do you need help?"

"Go the fuck away!" a man's voice growled, followed by what was clearly the sound of a woman giggling. A female "ooooh_, oui!_" of delight followed immediately thereafter, and then the sound of two people gasping and moaning grew at the same time as the door banging increased.

"Oh. My. God," Hermione gasped, finally putting two-and-two together. "I'm… I'm sorry!" she squeaked as she ran for the exit, gathering her note cards up at the last second and running back into the convention area, heart pounding under her ribs like a drill, breath coming fast. She'd forgotten, but the other thing you could trust the French for was that sex was an anytime-anywhere sort of thing; they prized spontaneity - or so she'd read from Ginny's honeymoon postcards.

Her pinked face flushed a deeper shade of crimson with mortification as she realized the full implication of what was going on right now behind the door to her right. She skittered across the hallway towards a magical drinking fountain on the other side, diagonal from the women's loo and took a good, long drag of cool, refreshing water. Then, she leaned against the wall on this side and shut her eyes for a few moments to clear her thoughts and regain her focus. Her presentation was in less than half an hour; she needed to forget the scene she'd just accidentally intruded upon and get back into "scholar mode."

Just as she'd resolved to do so, and had regained her sense of perspective, the bathroom door opened. Out peeked a beautiful honey-blonde with a fashionably short bob, dressed in a mid-thigh black skirt and dark green blouse. The young woman checked both sides, and then indicated that someone was to follow her out. This, Hermione realized in shock, was the overly-enthusiastic sex couple! She wondered who they were…

When a platinum-blonde head framing a stunning face ducked out next, Hermione would have recognized that smirk anywhere, even from across six years, five hundred and sixty kilometers, and one very cold English channel. Her jaw dropped open and she blinked twice to make sure she was truly witnessing the sight before her. Yes, it was true. The angelic visage with the devil's soul was, indeed, the mysterious sex fiend!

It was Draco _sodding_ Malfoy.

Apparently determining the coast was clear, the woman leaned up and pressed a passionate snog onto her (_ick!_) lover, palming him a piece of paper at the same time, and then she hurried off (but not before Hermione caught the flash of a gold diamond ring on her left hand; add '_accompli_ adulterer' to that blacklist against Malfoy!). When the lady was out of sight, the man glanced around quickly, and then his steely, arctic gaze locked onto Hermione's dark cider-colored peepers and his smirk widened. He sauntered over casually, thrusting pale, well-manicured hands into his woolen, dark charcoal slacks, his silken, light grey button-up, sleekly cut for his obviously well-developed frame – molded to him as he moved. A dark tie – which reminded her of his old school uniform's Slytherin green accessory, with its fashionable stripes – draped undone around his neck; apparently, he had no intention of fixing the thing. Self-assured arrogance simply radiated across the meters. Hermione narrowed her eyes, observing her one-time foe closely.

This was not the same skinny, weak, closed, angry Draco Malfoy she remembered from the summer after her Seventh Year, when they'd both returned (along with a handful of other students) to study and sit their N.E.W.T.s (McGonagall had offered the opportunity to all those who'd missed the chance because of the war, so Hermione had grabbed at it… as had Malfoy). The man coming towards her exuded a sharp, very masculine confidence and a captivating, seductive grace with every step, and he was positively _gorgeous_. Slurpilicious, even, to use a Ginny turn-of-phrase. Of course, he also seemed to know this fact.

"That was as dry and unsexy an open declaration against love and familial duty as I'd expect from someone like you, Granger," he mocked rudely, stopping a meter away and staring at her knowingly. "And given in the loo, no less. Nice glasses by the way."

Flattening her gaze, she adjusted her spectacles again (that was _not_ a nervous gesture, she reassured herself) and looked over the rims of them at him in distinct disapproval. "Better than what _you_ were 'giving' - in a bog stall no less, Malfoy. _That's_ about as unsexy as one can get, and only proves my ultimate point that even the sophistry of love need not be present for sex _or_ marriage to take place," she countered.

At first, he seemed surprised with the witty, acidic come-back, and then he pulled out an all-time favorite: the Malfoy Derisive Laugh. "This is _La Ville de l'Amour_, princess. Anything goes, regardless of legal status." He peeked at her from under long, golden eyelashes. "Then again, I suppose you wouldn't know anything about hot, passionate stuff, Miss 'rationally calculated, emotionally disconnected.' I'm betting your knickers are even starched."

Hermione cleared her throat, affecting a bored, disdainful mask. "At least I'm _wearing_ knickers," she shot back. "Unlike the slag you just worked over." She tsk'd and made a face like she'd bitten into lemons. "How utterly vulgar and completely predictable of a slimy git like you to shag on a toilet."

To her surprise, Malfoy tossed his head back and laughed genuinely. "Oh, I've missed locking horns with you, Mudblood!" he grinned wickedly. "Of all the chicks in school, you were the only one who could keep up, you know."

She huffed, realizing that she didn't have time for this foolishness. Checking her Muggle watch on her wrist, she tsk'd again; twenty minutes left and counting. Moving off the wall, she shoved past the former Slytherin bully and made her way towards the hall where she would be presenting. "Sparring with the intellectually and emotionally disabled is hardly a challenge, Malfoy."

Behind her, another good natured laugh burst out from between the man's lips. "All this verbal teasing is giving me a big hard-on, Granger," he called out and she was utterly mortified that he'd shouted that across the lobby. Thank the Founders that the hallway was abandoned as all of the attendees were currently sitting in on the big event of the weekend: "Overturning Lycanthopic Legislation: A Struggle For Equality," presented by none other than her best friend, Harry Potter (who'd taken up the cause on behalf of Remus Lupin, who had died during the war).

"Can't be all that impressive a size or technique, Malfoy," she called back with a wave. "You hardly lasted three minutes with the Swedish Barbie doll." With that, she disappeared through a door into backstage, and made her way down a narrow, carpeted hallway. She turned left at the end and continued down until she came to a door marked, "Main Auditorium." Opening it quietly and carefully, she stepped in and took a seat, waiting behind the curtain for Harry's presentation to end. Her friend was giving an impassioned speech for werewolf rights, suggesting (and presenting financial facts) for more money be funneled towards research for a cure to the violent metamorphic disease which had afflicted his friend (and now others, thanks to Fenrir Greyback, who had escaped capture after the war, and was still on the loose).

Leaning her head back and closing her eyes again, Hermione concentrated on her speech once more. Absently, she noted that her nerves were now at ease. In fact, all her muscles felt loosened and her mind calm, relaxed even. She felt a little like she was sinking into the afterglow following really great sex, which boosted her confidence level immensely. She could _definitely_ do this. There was absolutely no need for nervousness. She'd deliver her discourse on the antiquated Wizarding Marriage Laws and, like Harry, make the case to her fellow intellectuals that they needed to be seriously revamped – and the sooner, the better. Never again would she allow another woman to fall prey to the same twisted rules that had made her divorce from Ron so painful and difficult to achieve.

Just before Harry concluded his lecture-plea, it occurred to her why she was feeling so euphoric: she had _finally_ gotten one over on Draco Malfoy. The parting, rapier-like shot she'd hurled at him had been brilliantly delivered so flippantly that it had left him speechless (if she did say so herself, with a tiny pat of congratulations). All those years, all those insults traded, and she'd finally shut him up.

Sweet gobstones, could the day, week, month or year get any better?

X~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~X

_**May 29, 2004 (Saturday)**_

The day the conference ended, Hermione bid goodbye to Harry (who popped back to The Burrow immediately to be with Ginny, who was eight months pregnant now) and made a very irrational, unplanned, unorganized, un-Hermione-like decision that would change the rest of her life: she was going to cash in on her vacation days. She had four full weeks, having never taken any days off in the last six years (not even sick days), and she wanted to enjoy herself a little. She'd earned it, after all, and she had more than enough money in the bank saved up to live comfortably for over two years even if she were to lose her job tomorrow (which wasn't likely to happen), so she owl'd her boss and her secretary and made the arrangements, then sat down to make her plans for a month-long, whirlwind European tour!

She hadn't felt so excited since her days defying Dolores Umbridge at school.

X~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~X

_**May 30, 2004 (Sunday)**_

The next afternoon, sitting at an outdoor café, sipping a latte and partaking of a rich chocolate cake with fresh strawberries, she checked her Muggle guide for European sites of interest against her Wizard's guide (which was charmed to look like just another Muggle travel book to everyone else so it would be safe to view in public). She planned to go to the Louvre tomorrow, and to check out the other typical touristy things in Paris for the next four days. After that, shopping in Zurich, and resting for a day or two in Interlaken in Switzerland were also on the itinerary. Then she'd be off to Mainau and Reichenau Island on Lake Constance in Germany to experience the series of pre-history wizard powerstone circles and ley lines which surrounded the place. She wasn't sure about the travel route, but she definitely wanted to try the wines in Tuscany, Italy, to go swimming off the Isle of Capri, and to see some of her mother's family's homeland in Greece. In between... well, that was still very open, so she looked at the various countries to determine what sounded interesting.

A shadow blocked the sun off to her right and she looked up and over to find out who the rude stranger was who'd approached her might be.

"Hate to admit it, Granger, but you look passably attractive in Muggle trappings."

Groaning, Hermione adjusted her photo-tinted lenses on her face. "Sod off, Malfoy," she sighed heavily. "You're ruining my holiday and blocking my sun."

Without being invited, he took the seat opposite her instead. "You're on vacation then? Excellent! What are we doing first?"

As calmly as possible, she put the guides down next to her plate, fiddled with her glasses again so she was looking over the rims at him again and frowned. "_We_ aren't doing anything. _I_ am planning to enjoy a few days in France before heading out to see the continent on a month-long tour." She took a bite of her cake, letting the smooth chocolate soothe her soured mood, pointedly ignoring her former schoolmate.

"Has anyone ever told you that you're not pretty when you're acting the shrew?" he asked, clearly amused by the banter, but then answered his own question quickly, not giving her a chance to defend herself. "Oh, wait, I have. Many times. You'd think you'd have listened by now."

"Speaking of hearing problems…" she commented dryly. "I said bugger off." Picking back up her books, she skimmed the table of contents and then flipped to the section on Greece. Her wizarding guide stated that Zagorohoria boasted rare magical creatures - that sounded interesting.

"I'll tell you what, Granger," Malfoy continued to buzz around. "Throw out those guides and I'll take you around Europe free of charge. I know all the best places that aren't listed in those books of yours. And since I've been to every country on the continent, we can Apparate there directly, avoiding unreliable modes of transportation."

"Listen, Malfoy," she began, but hesitated, really thinking about what he'd said. It was true that if she could Apparate instead of having to book passage on trains (_undependable in some areas_), rent a Muggle car (_expensive!_), or take an airplane (_gulp!_), it would save her a tremendous amount of time and effort – which she could use towards seeing even more things! Good time management would be the key to enjoying this spontaneous vacation to the max!

Wait, what the hell was she thinking? Traveling about with Draco Malfoy wasn't her idea of a fun holiday; it was more like a trip down the River Styx with Hades himself. "Forget it," she sniffed, surprised that she'd even considered the idea for a moment. "I can't stand your mean and obnoxious attitude. You hate everything about me. We'd tear each other apart."

Her uninvited companion was silent for a bit, so she looked up to find out what the man was up to. Never trust a Slytherin when they were quiet, she remembered from her school days. Malfoy was leaning his chin on the palm of his right hand, elbow up on the table, staring at her, considering her behind enigmatic (_magnetic!_) grey eyes.

"What?" she asked, suddenly apprehensive, her fingers moving unconsciously to fiddle with her pearl earring stud in her right ear (a habit she'd acquired since having sat across a table with Ron and his wizard solicitor for hours, negotiating the terms of their divorce). Never before in their shared history had Draco Malfoy ever looked at her like he was now. She couldn't decipher what he was thinking, and there was no barbed commentary to give her a clue as to his thoughts. He didn't seem angry, annoyed, or mocking, but he didn't seem happy either (not that she would know what that looked like on the man, as he'd never been _anything_ but angry, annoyed, or mocking to her). It was rather unnerving, honestly.

"I'm bored, Granger," he finally stated, sighing. His fingers ran through his long, white-gold bangs, which dropped (_attractively!_) into his face. "Life's become too predictable. I want something… more."

Hermione blinked in confusion. "I can't see as how you can say that, given how you've got the world at your feet, Malfoy. You're rich, handsome, well-groomed and successful in business. Your family reputation somehow turned itself around after the war so that now you're probably receiving as many Ministry-function invites as Harry, Ron and I – how did you manage that, by the way? You've got beautiful women throwing themselves at you everywhere you go, if the rumors in the society pages are true. You _own_ a bloody Quidditch team." She took a sip of her latte and stared at him evenly. "And here you are whinging on about being bored and wanting even more? You sound like a spoiled git to me."

As she'd talked, the attractive blonde's face did that smirking thing again, so that by the time she'd finished, there was a gleam in his eyes now to go with the roguish grin. "Think I'm handsome, do you?" He chuckled. "Well, at least your taste in men has improved along with your wardrobe."

She dropped her ceramic cup onto its matching saucer a little too hard, making them clink loudly together – which was fine, as the sound masked her teeth clanging fiercely together in her head. "Is that all you heard I said, Malfoy? Gah! You are the vainest creature on the planet! You make Veela look positively humble by comparison!"

He stood up abruptly and reached over, grabbing her guides out from under her arms with his right hand. "Come on, Granger, let's go have some fun!" Reaching down with his free hand, he took her small wrist in between his (_warm!_) fingers and pulled her to her feet effortlessly before she could launch a sound in protest. She was suddenly pressed forehead-to-chest against Draco Malfoy, her hands automatically seeking purchase on his hips to steady her balance. She stood frozen for several seconds in shock, her mind having shut down at this unexpected, most intimate touching of her oldest rival. In those moments, all she could think about was that his cologne – a sharp, oriental, woodsy fragrance – smelled _so_ _utterly_ _alluring_. The total experience of being held so close to him made her insides turn upside down.

She felt the abrupt shift in the magical energies they both gave off; a definite, sexually charged moment passed between them. It was very uncomfortable. Pushing away in a near panic, she almost stumbled backwards over her chair, except Malfoy yanked back on the arm that he'd never let go of and stabilized her instantly. He stepped into her personal space again. "Live a little, Granger," he coaxed, his low voice honey smooth. "I'll show you things you've only dreamed about."

Why was her heart suddenly thumping about in her throat, trying to escape at maximum velocity? This was Draco _bloody_ Malfoy – the guy she hated (okay, well, maybe not hated, as that was a strong word which she reserved only for the truly evil, like Voldemort; it was more like she disliked, disapproved of, and disfavored Malfoy overall)! Given that, why would she suddenly be reacting to his presence in this fashion? She'd felt the tightening in her nipples and her womb when his aura had lightly touched hers. She hadn't experienced that with a man… well, _ever_, truth be told (she'd loved Ron, but they were never hot for each other in the 'tear your clothes off and fuck like crazy against the wall' sort of chemical attraction. It was more a gentle, fumbling kind of sex between them).

She felt Malfoy caress his magical energies against hers again, and she shivered in response, clamping her knees together and gritting her jaw against the sensation. "Whatever it is you're doing, stop it," she breathed, refusing to look him in the eye. "It's… uncomfortable."

The fingers around her wrist tightened again, and this time his thumb began slowly stroking the inside sensitive flesh, just above her pulse. "I'm not doing anything, Granger," he vowed, then leaned his face down to her right ear, hovering his lips right above the lobe. "I can't help that you want me."

Anger and shame flooded through her and she jerked her arm out of his grasp, and then grabbed her guide books back out of his hand. "You wish," she spat, then gathered her bag, threw some Euros down on the table, and backed away. "I'm not the one who sat down at the table today uninvited," she reminded him, then turned on her heel and stalked angrily away. By the time she'd reached the end of the block where Rue de Sablonville met Rue de Commandant Pilot, he'd caught up to her.

"Okay, so I did go looking for you around the hotel and conference center, I admit," he confessed, shoving his hands in his pockets, a boyish, troublemaking smile plastered to his (_handsome!_) face.

She huffed and stepped off the curb after making sure the traffic was pedestrian manageable. "And why would you do that?" she demanded, irritated that the guy couldn't take the hint and get lost. "I don't recall us ever being good enough friends to make me want to hang out with you for any length of time."

He chuckled, easily matching her increased speed with his longer stride as they continued down the street and cut through the parking area of Neuilly Stationnnement. "True, we're not friends. But you're definitely not boring, either, Granger."

She sniffed, but didn't reply as they made their way towards Rue Madeleine Michelis, where she stopped in at the Thierry Mugler Parfumes shop. She'd wanted to pick out a fragrance for her mother and Ginny to owl back as presents. Malfoy, strangely enough, continued to stay at her side like an unwanted stray, not in the least bit bothered by being in a perfumery or shopping. It was actually quite fortunate that he'd come along, as it turned out, because he spoke flawless French to the sales woman behind the counter, and was able to negotiate the language barrier for Hermione.

After an overly dramatic sales pitch, including clouding her senses with fragrances for the better part of half an hour, Hermione finally chose Angel Violet for Ginny (she loved the goth looking bottle) and Mirror Mirror for her more conservative mother, Eleanor. As the sales woman packaged up her purchases, Malfoy sauntered over carrying a weird purple glass bottle etched with gold decoration. "Try this on," he offered, grabbing and holding up her wrist (which had been washed with warm water and cleaned up by the sales woman to clear it of the combined scents she'd tried on earlier). He spritzed the perfume in the air, and brought her skin into the mist, letting it absorb the fragrance, then set the bottle down on the counter and waited a few seconds for it to breathe and dry. Then, he brought her arm to his nose, closing his eyes, and inhaled deeply.

Again, Hermione felt that strange caress against her magical spirit that caused her body to flush with desire. She trembled unwittingly and tugged against her arm, to no avail. Malfoy's eyes opened to half-mast and the look he gave her was scorching. There was no denying what he was thinking in that moment. He stepped into her once more. "I think this scent was made for you," he informed her, nuzzling his nose against her artery, hovering his lips over her wrist, watching her the whole time.

The woman behind the counter, seeing a potential for more sales, stepped forward and explained something in French to them. Hermione, whose eyes had been glued to what Draco was doing to her, only half noted the woman's presence. "What… did she say?" she asked, hearing the weakness in her tone and hating herself for it.

Malfoy's free hand came up to stroke the inside of her bared forearm as he sniffed again. "She says this is a new fragrance called 'Alien,' and it has notes of Jasmine sambac, cashmeran, vanilla and transparent amber. Personally, I think it's just sexy on you."

Hermione swallowed nervously. "Let go," she requested softly, tugging her arm again, trying to keep the shaking out of her voice. "Please." Everything inside of her was rioting out of control. Nothing about this situation was right. This was Malfoy she was suddenly wet between the legs for! No, she absolutely _couldn't _be attracted to someone like him! He was… he was… an arsehole, that's what he was!

She managed to extricate herself from his hold, grabbed up her pre-paid purchases with a quick, "Merci," and left the shop as fast as her legs could move without embarrassing herself by running.

She made it all the way to her hotel's lobby – the Neuilly Park Hotel – and had hit the button on the elevator for her floor when Malfoy appeared at her side, a package in his hand. The lift doors opened, and he grabbed her, pulling her in after him. As soon as they shut, and she'd hit the appropriate button, he turned on her and shoved her against the back wall, kissing her hard with a passion that burned her up.

No, this was... She couldn't... He was... They...

She whimpered once before giving in, returning his kiss with equal ardor. It was a breath-stealing moment that changed everything.

"Got your key?" he growled against her lips, hungrily diving in again and hardly giving her time to reply.

"Yes," she gasped, reaching into her front jean pocket and pulling it out.

He tongued her fiercely. "Good. Which room?"

The doors opened and she pulled him after her. They kissed all the way down the hall, hardly separating, even when she put her key card in the door and yanked the handle open. Even before the door shut behind them, locking back into place, they had dropped everything in their hands without care onto the carpeted floor, and were beginning to tear each other's clothes off. "Love your glasses, Granger, but lose 'em," he commanded as he bent to her neck and bit over her pulse.

She grasped, reached up and carefully took her lenses off, placing them on the room's dresser top. Then they got back to the business of stripping. "I can't… believe I'm… doing this," she murmured in between kisses. "I've never… I mean… I don't do this sort of thing!"

Draco's fingers undid her bra with a practiced ease, tossing it to the floor, and he bent his head to take in one of her nipples. "You do now. Gods, Granger," he gasped, nipping and biting and tugging on her rosy buds. "Your tits are _gorgeous_." He ate at them, too, even as his hands moved to the button and zipper of her jeans. "Take these off," he requested in a panting voice. "I want at every inch of your skin."

Lost in a haze of seduction, a part of Hermione that had been asleep and too long denied rose up, and suddenly, she became as aggressive as Malfoy. She reached for his belt and pulled it free. "You, too," she bid, her heart slamming behind her ribs fiercely.

They both tugged and maneuvered until finally, shoes, socks, and pants were abandoned haphazardly. He lay her back on her bed in the center and crawled over her, continued to lathe her breasts. His fingers were pressed into the slit of her knickers, rubbing back and forth. He reached up and captured her mouth again. "I'm going down on you," he informed her, tugging her panties down, moving with them. "And you're going to cum on my face."

She nodded. "Yes, _please_!"

His mouth tongued all down her body, and when he dipped between her legs, forcing them open with a shove, he did magical things to her clit that made her wail. She entwined her hands in his silky, soft hair and encouraged him with small thrusts of her hips. Her body was on liquid fire. "Oh, Godric, _yes!_ Your mouth feels _so good_… Don't stop, I'm close!" He hummed in approval, and the sound vibrated through her lower lips up into her, causing a flood of her juices in its wake. She tensed up and her knees bent of their own accord as she exploded with light and feeling, crying out his first name. He drank her up, continuing to savor her flavor as she slowly came down, and the endorphins rushed through her system.

That was twice now that Draco Malfoy had made her feel good (although the first time was under very different pretenses). She wanted to give back.

Pulling his face up her body, she glued their mouths together again, licking herself off of his chin and lips like a depraved animal. Guiding him over onto his back, she straddled him. Malfoy seemed content to let her take the lead. His smirk, in fact, said he'd kind of expected it from her. "I knew you'd be dominant in bed, Granger," he lightly teased. "You're always so bossy."

She raised an eyebrow and stroked his cock for the first time. It was long and thick, filling her hand and then some, and he was already wet with want for her. "That's right, Malfoy, _I'm_ the boss," she tried for sultry temptress for the first time ever, feeling rather powerful and sexy at the moment as she held him – literally – in the palm of her hand. "And I want to make you feel as good as you just made me feel. You're going to let me return the favor now."

His eyes widened in surprise and he licked his lips anticipatorily. Clearly, he hadn't been expecting that response from her! Good, she'd thrown him off-kilter. With a predatory smirk of her own, she lowered her mouth to his nipples, giving him equal attention here, sucking and nipping. Then, just because she felt like it, she bit him a little hard. He gasped in pleasure, and ran his hands through her curly hair, tangling it up with his fingers. "A little harder," he requested, so she complied, and he moaned in ecstasy. When she pulled back to admire her work, she knew he was going to have a bruise in the shape of her teeth for at least a week. For some reason, she felt a little smug about that.

Dipping her head lower, she tongued his bellybutton, which made him suck air in through his teeth, all the while, stroking him below with her right hand, following his shape from tip to base, then dropping down over his sack and dipping between his legs to find that spot that made him clench and groan. When her lips stretched over his crown, she suckled lightly, popping him in and out, twining her tongue over and around, licking every inch. She looked up at him and they locked gazes and he nodded. "Take me in all the way," he requested. She French kissed his tip a few times, and then dropped her mouth on him, relaxing her jaw and letting him go all the way back until he was down her throat. He gasped in surprise and satisfaction, his fingers weaving in her hair still. "Shit, Granger… who'd have guessed your mouth was as… perfect... as your mind?"

The words brought a strange thrill to her, and she wanted to reward him, so she did an extra good job sucking him off, being sure to employ every technique she knew to bring him maximum pleasure. Very soon, he was panting hard. "Stop, or I'll cum," he warned her, and pulled her face away and back up towards his mouth.

They kissed hotly as his fingers worked down her hip, dipped between her legs and pierced her opening. "Do you want me?" he asked, licking her lips in time with his finger movements. "Say you want me to fuck you, Granger."

She ardently snogged him back for all she was worth, and removed his fingers herself, then, she grabbed his shaft and guided herself over it. They both gasped as he entered her and as she slid down his length slowly, torturously. She stared him in the eye the whole time. "I'll say it if you will," she challenged, and stopped when he was only half the way buried inside her. She held still, but tensed her muscles inside around him, causing him to groan. "Say you want _me_ to fuck _you_, Malfoy."

He opened his silvery, intense orbs and smirked at her. "Granger, I've wanted you to fuck me since Fourth Year, when I saw you in that pretty little purple dress at the Yule Ball."

She continued moving on down him. "It was periwinkle, actually," she corrected him with a grin just as he was fully sheathed inside her and she sat down completely on him, locking them together. He was right up against her cervix and she winced from the small pain of having him press up on it.

Malfoy laughed. "Granger, only you could correct me at a time like this." He reached up and stroked her cheek gently. "Now, shut up and fuck me already, woman."

They moved together in perfect rhythm, with a tension that was just right to bringing them together rather quickly. Grabbing a hold of her and pulling her down on top of him, Draco rolled her onto her back with a smooth move and then hovered over, readjusting his hips for the standard missionary position instead. He slowed them down. "Not yet," he told her, the muscles in his arms rippling as he held his weigh up on the palms of his hands and moved his lower abs with each jerk of his hips. "I've waited a long time for you. We're going to enjoy this." The grin was back.

He took her in one position after another and at a variety of paces – switching every so many minutes, building her up to the edge of bliss, only to pull back and reset them both. It was torture and rapture at both the same time. First he took her slowly while leaning over her, then he tugged her up into a sitting position and repositioned her over his lap, bouncing her up and down with gusto, then he pulled out, turned her around and drove into her with fierce possessiveness while she was on her hands and knees. They both almost came then, and it was only by pulling out again that they were able to regain control. He flipped her onto her back, lifted one leg onto his shoulder and entered her again, kissing all down her ankle and calf as his penis drove into her again and again at a steady pace. Then, he pulled the other leg up and did the same, only this time, he was drilling into her, grabbing her waist and immobilizing her. He bent her knees back to her ears and fucked her strong, kissing her at the same time, then once again had to stop. "Too close," he shook his head. "You make me lose it fast, Granger," he huffed in amazement. He let her legs down, pulled her to the end of the bed and stood, grabbing her hips off the bed entirely and slammed into her from the unequal height.

"Do you want to cum?" he asked, his breath heaving from his chest, his face as red as she knew hers to be. Hermione nodded, unable to speak her requests around her moans. In response, he slowed down again, then pushed her back into the middle of the bed and crawled over her without disconnecting their bodies. He evened himself with her face, looking down on her with a strange tenderness in his eyes, even as he cupped her cheeks and kissed her. "I think… I'm going to want to do this with you again, Granger," he said somewhat softly, as he nipped her lips. "You've bewitched me."

She smiled, feeling the heat build back up in her womb, electricity beginning to arc with every shove of his body against her clit. "Must be the perfume," she joked. "I've seduced you with my pheromones, Malfoy."

He chuckled darkly. "You did that long before today," he whispered, and then increased his strokes with powerful actions of his hips, obviously meaning to cover up the confession and deny her the ability to ask him what he meant by taking her breath away. He pounded into her, rocking the bed, making her gasp and moan wantonly. "Cum for me, Hermione," he purred in her ear. "Cum all over me and I'll cum in you."

Frenzied for release, she grabbed his arse and pulled herself into him with equal force, wrapping her legs around his waist at the same time. "Yes, yes, Draco… I'm… oh, gods, _YES!_" She flew apart, her body exploding with elation and energy, a rainbow of color stars exploding behind her eyes. It was the hardest, most intense orgasm she'd ever experienced. Her soul thrilled at the feeling. Draco came in her a fraction of a second behind, and she felt his hot breath blasted across her neck as he shouted his climax against her throat. His hot semen spurted up into her; she felt the warmth coat her channel, felt her rippling, convulsing body pull him up and into her deeply as he deposited his seed with intense shudders. Her arms held him tightly to her, as his came around her at the same time and did likewise.

When it was over, they continued to hold onto each other. Malfoy, she noted, did not seem in the least inclined to let her go right away, which she thought was probably odd behavior for a man who'd been known to treat women as disposable toys (at least, according to the gossip columns). That strange awkwardness that came after having a one-nighter suddenly infused her. She'd heard Lavendar speak of this weird, apprehensive feeling in the past, but had never experienced it herself (she had, after all, only been with Ron, and no one else; sadly, their divorce had been almost two years ago and she hadn't gotten laid in all that time until today).

After several minutes, Draco finally pulled back, a contented smile on his languid eyes. Well, that was a good sign. It made some of her nervousness ease away. He smirked again, even as his fingers came up to brush hair off her forehead tenderly. "I have to admit, Granger," he drawled in that meltingly smooth-as-chocolate voice of his. "This was way better than any of my wank fantasies about you." He wiggled his eyebrows teasingly at her. "Wanna do it again?"

This oddly playful side of Draco Malfoy wasn't anything she'd expected to ever experience with him. She blinked, stalling for a moment to consider, but already knowing what the answer had to be. "I could be persuaded," she joked back. "But only if you tell me more about how long you've been wanking to ideas of me in your bed."

He snickered. "Maybe I will," he bent and kissed her lips again, and she felt him harden inside her once more. "But then again, maybe I won't. You'll have to get it out of me during a moment of weakness."

They fucked all the rest of the afternoon and evening, stopping only to order some food because Hermione was ready to faint from malnutrition. They shared dinner, then they shared dessert – all over each other – then they took a shower and screwed like mad in there, too – on the sink counter top and against the wall of the bath. She refused to let him fuck her on the toilet lid, though, drawing the line there for obvious reasons (he laughed at her for this one). He sated her so completely, that by nine o'clock, with her hair still damp, Hermione finally succumbed to sleep. The last thing she remembered was spooning with Draco, his arms about her, his face buried against her neck. "Sweet dreams, Granger," he whispered, kissing her neck, and then, she was down for the count and she slept like the dead until mid-afternoon the next day.

* * *

_**TO BE CONTINUED….**_

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTES:**

**- I calculated the approximate distance between where I think Hogwarts castle would be in Scotland and Paris, France, and it is around 560 km.**

_**- La Ville de l'Amour **_**= French for "The City of Love," a nickname for Paris, France.**

**- The Neuilly Park Hotel in Paris is AMAZING. If you ever get the chance to stay here, please take my recommendation. It has 30 rooms, and everyone is decorated with a different theme. Like most hotels in Europe, the rooms are narrow and smallish (I know American hotels are huge by comparison!), but the accommodations and its distance to major attractions, plus its affordable price make this a great place to stay. Here's a URL for you to check it out, if you want: http:/www(dot)hotelneuillypark(dot)com**


	2. Chapter 2: No Such Thing As Fate

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: Have decided to combine this FIC CHALLENGE with another challenge issued to me by DAISYKINS. Her criteria is very similar to ROSE's, with one small addition, which you'll learn about soon (no spoilers!). Hope you like it! **

* * *

**CHAPTER TWO:** _**No Such Thing As Fate**_

_**May 31, 2004 (Monday)**_

Hermione felt very light headed and fuzzy when she finally cracked open her eyelids. For a second, the room swam, so she shut them tightly again. She knew she hadn't consumed any alcohol, so what was the deal with the hangover migraine? She groaned and reached behind her weakly with one hand, thinking she'd encounter Malfoy's body at some point with her flailing limb. She turned over surprised to find he was gone, and by the feel of the sheets under her fingers, he'd vacated a while ago.

She listened, but did not hear him in the loo. Had he seriously sexed her almost to death yesterday only to pull a runner on her? He better not have!

Grunting in pain, she forced herself up into a sitting position. It took her ten more minutes to scramble to her feet, and then she had to pull herself along the wall to the restroom. It was when she'd splashed cold water on her face, finally, that she was able to focus. What she saw in the mirror horrified her. She was as white as a sheet, with dark circles under her eyes. Her hair was a freaking mess, and all along her body was the evidence of Draco's love making. She was covered in his love bites, the bruises purpling ugly against her tanned skin. What the hell had the man been thinking marking her all over like some teenager? Gah!

She took a shower, lingering under the hot steam for a while before washing up, and after, she felt marginally better. Dressing and replacing her glasses on her nose, she gathered her purse from the dresser… and stopped, noticing a purple glass bottle next to her wand. A small, folded note lay next to it.

Hermione's heart beat fiercely in her chest, and she hesitated touching either item. She'd seen this sort of thing in Muggle chick-flicks before: the requisite "buy off" gift to say "thanks for letting me have you, see ya." Could Malfoy be so crude? She snorted. Of course he could. He was a man slag, after all. Seriously, hadn't she just caught him a few days ago screwing some strumpet in the women's bathroom in a convention center?

Not that she could cast stones, as she'd been officially added to his "strumpet" list now, too.

Groaning in disgust and mortification, she turned away from the gift, grabbing up her wand and purse, and heading out. Right now, she needed coffee and food. Later, she'd get up the nerve to find out exactly how she'd been dumped by her one-time worst enemy.

X~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~X

She headed back down the street towards Avenue Charles de Gaulle to check out the small bistro, Durand Dupont, which she'd passed by many a time now coming and going around the hotel area. It seemed a trendy spot, and the patrons all wore smiles on their faces upon leaving, so perhaps it was worth a check. It turned out to be a brilliant idea, as the place was well-lighted, stylish, and trendy. And the brunch was amazing – a fruit bar, pastries of all kinds, a custom omelet service, twelve different types of salads (from classic Caesar to spinach with goat cheese crumbles and tomatoes to Italian pasta and three bean), and cheese and chocolate platters. Sipping her sweet cream coffee (she'd come to enjoy the flavor since coming here for the conference), she indulged her voracious appetite. By the time she'd finished, she actually felt that this was the first meal she'd had since she'd come to France where she got more than her money's worth. She was as stuffed as a ravioli.

Feeling much more human, she decided that now she was ready to face whatever let down Malfoy had prepared for her. At least yesterday would have no lasting damage, as she'd taken her anti-pregnancy potion this month, and emotionally, she hadn't been too entangled with him to start. It had been an afternoon and night of the hottest, wildest, most satisfying sex she'd ever had (that it was with Draco Malfoy was only slightly more disturbing than the fact that she'd actually given in so easily), and she knew nothing would ever compare again to her memories of their Bacchanalian "festivities," but she was determined to be fine with that. She had to be, or else she'd be really hurt for being used as a one-off. There simply was no other choice.

Back in her hotel room, she sat on the edge of the bed and stared at the bottle of perfume that he'd purchased for her yesterday (he'd been carrying a package when they'd been in the elevator, so this must be it). Her eyes roved to the right to glance once more at the note.

Right, she could do this.

Putting her wand and purse down on the bed, and adjusting her glasses (still, not a nervous gesture!), she made her way over to the dresser. Her fingers caressed the slip of the crisply folded, tented paper, palming it. Before she lost her nerve, she opened the perfume bottle and sprayed the contents onto herself. At least if she was going to feel bad, she could smell good. It was weird logic, but it went a long way towards calming her nerves.

Sitting back on the bed, toeing off her shoes and slipping her feet into a yoga Lotus position, she took a deep breath and opened the note.

_**Granger,**_

_**I'll be back by Wednesday. I have some business I must attend to. Don't leave without me. I promise you a trip you'll never forget.**_

_**~ Draco**_

A weird part of Hermione felt like crying in something akin to relief. The other part was just plain annoyed. Today was Monday. He wanted her to hang around waiting for him for two days? Who did he think she was – Pansy Parkinson, the Slag of Slytherin, who had fawned subservient all over him their entire seven years at Hogwarts? No sir, Hermione had plans to see things! Every second she wasted was time she'd never get back. She only had four weeks, for Merlin's sake, and she was insistent that she was going to enjoy every minute of this holiday even if it killed her!

Picking up her tourist guides from the day before, she started making plans for activities for the next few days. She'd lost half of today lounging about in bed already. She'd just have to make up for it by staying out late tonight and taking in one of the large flea markets around the city, called _Les Puces De Paris_. The ones that interested her the most were _Le Marché Malassis_, _Le Passage_, and _Le Marché Vernaison_, all of which contained a variety of antiques, instead of a narrow market collection. She was hoping to find at least a few witches or wizards hiding out amongst the mix, selling off items of interest, as she'd been told sometimes happened by her secretary (who had lived in Paris for years) via her return owl.

Making her decision, she headed out into the city on her first grand adventure!

X~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~X

Celebrating a day and an evening of unequivocal consumer success was turning out to be less fun than she'd anticipated, especially since she was alone and couldn't brag on her day's score. Somehow, she'd anticipated actually finding a wizard in the markets and negotiating him down on rare items to be the highlight of her Paris experience. But, it only seemed shopping was fun when you did it with someone else. Her usual partner, Ginny, was currently too pregnant to be Apparating about.

Opening her plain, brown shopping bag (a thank you gift from the wizard, who had been comically impressed by the Muggle invention), she dug out the day's lucky finds.

She planned to give the 16th century Tarot deck to Minerva, whom she had kept in close contact with throughout the years. The woman had been kind enough to allow her access to the Headmistress' personal library to research ancient laws on marriage just before she'd come here to Paris for her presentation. She knew her old professor enjoyed dabbling in the "sillier arts," as they both called Divination, so she'd probably enjoy this deck, if for nothing other than a scholar's nostalgic curiosity. Hermione caressed her fingers over the smooth, wooden planks, which had been hand-painted in Italy, thinking them quite lovely and mysterious. Minerva was sure to approve.

The moonstone talisman was for Luna. She knew her friend's love of all things shiny and mysterious, and as soon as she'd laid eyes on the item, she knew exactly whom she wanted to gift it to at Christmas. She'd just be sure to tell her rather eccentric girlfriend that the pendant had already been sterilized against Wrackspurts or Gugglies or whatever other mythological creatures were in fashion this month. Otherwise, Luna might accidentally wreck it trying to assure it was "safe" to wear.

The small, hand-carved Aventurine serpent figurine from Nepal… she wasn't really sure why she'd purchased it. It had been a compulsive buy at the time. Now as she looked at it, she felt a sinking feeling in her chest that she knew why.

She'd bought it for _him_, hadn't she?

Bloody hell.

So, what did that mean?

Nothing, she stubbornly insisted internally. It meant _absolutely nothing_. Not a single, itty, bitty, critty, gritty thing! In no way, shape or form did she fancy Draco Malfoy, and that was that! She'd bought the figurine simply as a reciprocal gesture for the perfume, so she wouldn't feel as if she owed him anything, or that she'd cheapened herself for something as minimal as a funky-shaped bottle of designer _eau de toilette_.

…

Okay, so that wasn't fair. Eighty Euros wasn't all _that_ cheap a price to pay for a two ounce bottle of perfume. Besides, he'd given her the most mind-blowing, fantastic sex she'd ever had. She supposed that evened things out. So she hadn't been cheapened at all.

Right, she'd decided then – it wasn't a gift, per se, so much as it was an _exchange_.

She finished eating her meal by herself, and then Apparated from the women's water closet directly to her hotel room to call it an early evening. It was ten o'clock, and she was, quite truthfully, tired.

X~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~X

_**June 1, 2004 (Tuesday)**_

On Tuesday, she went to the Louvre, taking in fabulous, famous works of art that she'd only ever seen in books. Unfortunately, there was too much to see for a single day's walk-through, so she had to pick and choose which exhibits she wanted to spend time at. She focused on the Greek-Roman-Etruscan collection, the _Objets d'art_ collection, and the Prints and Drawings collection. It was an amazing day, filled with wonder and discovery – but it was also extremely lonely. Again, she wished one of her friends was there to share this time with. Hell, by the end of the day, she was hoping even Malfoy would show up just so she could actually talk to someone about what she'd seen and experienced.

She purchased a few pieces at the gift shop, including an Iznik embroidered stole for Molly, a Muggle tie with the imprint of Van Gogh's 'Starry Night' for Arthur, and an art book on Eugene Delacroix along with a green-threaded, hand-embroidered bookmark with the Fleur de Lys symbol for… _him_ (but only because she had paid so little for the serpent carving, and felt she needed to at least make sure the gifts were evenly priced to be fair).

That evening, she returned back to her hotel room at nine o'clock, ordered room service, ate while watching television, and then took a relaxing bubble bath before crawling into bed and seeking her rest.

X~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~X

_**June 2, 2004 (Wednesday)**_

On Wednesday morning, she awoke alone, much to her disappointment.

Well, what did she expect? Malfoy had said two days, but he hadn't really stated a time he could be expected to return.

Of course, she absolutely was _not_ bothered by the fact that he wasn't there. She was just hoping he'd take her out for breakfast. After all, he'd ruined her snack the other day when he'd interrupted her from indulging in a scrumptious piece of chocolate cake, so he owed her. Fair was fair.

After washing up and getting dressed, she took herself out to breakfast at the same café she'd been sitting at three days ago when Draco had interrupted her. Ordering a pastry and a sweet cream coffee, she sat in the sunshine at the outdoor table and continued reading her tourist guides, trying to figure out what she wanted to do today.

"Good thing you're the most predictable female I know."

Yay, he was back! She wanted to jump for joy... but not because he was _here_, so much as she had been sorely in need of a good fight to work out the kinks in her mind (she'd been alone in her head for two whole days with no one else to converse with – a dangerous disposition for someone of her temperament). Yeah, that was all it was. Really.

She squinted up at him in the bright spring sunshine, noting his patented arrogant smirk and was decidedly irritated with him for all of it – being alone, sleeping with her and leaving, and looking at her like he owned her now. "I'm sorry, but have we met?" she inquired icily. "You look awfully familiar to me, but it's been so long, perhaps I've forgotten you."

Malfoy took the seat opposite her, and called over a waitress with an imperious wave of his hand. "You could never forget me, Granger, and you know it," he cheekily replied with that overconfident glimmer in his pale, grey eyes that she'd lov… er, _hated_ over the years.

She faux yawned. "Oh, it's you. Yes, it's all coming back to me now. The git I loathe more than my ex."

He ordered an espresso and a pastry in flawless French from the rather young, attractive café worker, and then turned his attention back to Hermione, totally ignoring the way the other woman was so openly flirting with him. The girl left to fulfill his request with obvious disappointment. "You can't possibly loathe someone that you shag that well, princess. You marked me pretty damned good." He grinned and pointed to the area over his left nipple where she'd bitted down on him hard, leaving an impression of her dental work behind. Her parents would cringe at the thought – not that she'd bitten someone so much as worrying about how bearing down that hard could crack her enamel.

"So, where did you slither off to?" she dryly asked, placing her cup on the edge of her table in the universal sign for 'give me a freakin' refill now.'

He chuckled. "Always so polite. That's what I like about you Granger." He waited to finish as the waitress returned with his order, winking and smiling provocatively at him. Hermione frowned at how obvious the woman was, and yet Draco seemed completely oblivious. For a man with his reputation, that seemed decidedly odd behavior. The girl left again, totally ignoring Hermione's empty coffee cup. "I had to go home and do some research," he explained.

Hermione raised an eyebrow at that. "And it took you two whole days to find what you were looking for?" As an expert on the art of tomes investigation, she knew that taking so long either meant a person was not motivated, didn't know where to properly look, or that there had been too much material to sift through to pare down the answer. Knowing what she did of Malfoy – he'd been in the top ten students in their class by grade point average, even with the war's distractions – she assumed that meant that the first two assumptions were probably wrong. "Although it pains me to admit, it must have been a very rare fact-finding mission if it required a herculean effort from someone with your intelligence level."

He seemed surprised by her assessment. "Ah, so now we can add clever and brainy to 'rich, handsome, well-groomed and successful in business,'" he teased, quoting her former appraisal of his talents verbatim. Hermione huffed, amazed he could remember her words so well. Did he have one of those auditory photographic memories? "Well, at least your mind isn't as dulled out by my absence as I'd thought," he sassed, taking a bite of his apple-cinnamon muffin.

That observation hit just a little too close to home for comfort's sake, Hermione thought. Clearing her throat, trying to catch the attention of that bint of a waitress again to ask for more coffee, she homed in on their previous topic, avoiding the smarmy retort that automatically bubbled to her lips. "What was the subject you were researching? Perhaps I can help."

Malfoy took a long sip of his espresso, watching her over the rim of his cup, his steely, enigmatic eyes weighing her carefully. After he swallowed with a soft "ahhh" of pleasure at the flavor, he shook his head. "Sorry, but it's a secret."

If Hermione's eyebrows were raised any higher, they'd have to permanently be considered part of her hairline. "You seem to keep an awful lot of those." She was referring to the fact that he'd never answered her question the other day about how long he'd been having lascivious thoughts about her (he'd distracted her quite well after that question, and she'd forgotten to pursue it then).

The handsome blonde shrugged those (_muscular!_) shoulders of his and gave her a mysterious smile. "Slytherin in the soul," he chanted the mantra of his house.

Hermione waved off the rest of that. "Yeah, yeah. Hufflepuff at heart. Ravenclaw on the mind. Gryffindor to the bloody end. I get it. I know what your personality traits are by now, Malfoy. Clandestine deviousness is bred into you." She rolled her eyes. "It was foolish of me to even offer my help, apparently."

He downed the rest of his espresso in one pull and put the cup down on the tiny saucer. "Not foolish, just predictable - which brings us full circle in this conversation, I think."

"I am _not_ that easily calculable," Hermione bristled.

Leaning his elbow on the table rudely, and placing his chin in his hand, he snickered. "Yes, you are. This is the exact same table you sat in the day we hooked up."

Was it? Hermione looked about, confused, and realized he was right. She hadn't even noticed that she'd unconsciously picked this exact same location. She shrugged, unconcernedly. "Coincidence, nothing more."

Malfoy took his chin off his hand and held up one finger. "Ah, but there is no such thing, according to Arithmatical rules for predicting future events. That was your best subject in school, wasn't it?"

Hermione said nothing, staring at him flatly, waiting for him to prove his point and get back on topic. She really wanted to know what he'd been researching. Solving enigmas was one of her favorite hobbies, after all.

Draco's perfectly straight, pearly teeth shown bright in the mid-morning sunlight. "According to Arithmancy, everything in the universe is a geometric formula, with the unknowns easily determined by algebraic equations. And what it all boils down, Granger, is an issue of primary numbers and their attractions to each other. Simply put, Arithmancy says we're all fated to our destinies by mathematics. Every choice we make, even sitting at this table again, is predetermined by our previous set of decisions. If A, then B. If C and D, but not E, then F." He sat back in his chair, seeming to relish showing off his right cerebral hemisphere hard at work. "Even seemingly larger, more random proceedings – like us meeting up here in Paris again after so many years, for example - have a rational pattern that lays out in a series of logical progression when analyzed." He narrowed his eyes at her and smirked wickedly, as if he'd just cornered her in some great philosophical debate. "And we all know what a _big_ proponent of 'rationally calculated, emotionally disconnected' logic you are, don't we, Granger?"

She spurned his assertion of her character with a simple sniff and a turn of her nose in the air and focused on the argument. "That was not the point of my lecture at the conference. You never heard the rest of it. And us meeting up here again, Malfoy…"

"And shagging," he pointed out, interrupting her with a leer.

Clearing her throat and adjusting her glasses (still not nervous!), Hermione tried again. "Us meeting here in Paris can be attributed to the fact that we both had business dealings in this city. It's springtime, the time of the year when most conferences for practitioners of 'the art' are held, and this time around, they were unanimously being held in Paris. Next year, it's Rome. Meeting in that particular center was simply a matter of logistics: there isn't any other convention hall in Paris that caters to our kind. We met here as a matter of coincidence, as I said." She sniffed again, and looked about for that damned waitress. Where was she? "I may enjoy the study of Arithmancy, Malfoy, because it's challenging, but I don't take it very seriously, like Astronomy. I certainly don't rely upon it to model my concept of the world, because it doesn't determine the future so much as it _predicts_ _possibilities_. People forget that higher Arithmancy also contains a Chaos Variable in the math because it can't account for the nebulous sentimentality of the human condition. It's not a perfect magical science by any means; it's little more than questionable statistics in the end, if you think about it. For that reason, I'd much rather rely upon my own hard work, planning and instincts to get me where I need to go than to leave it up to universal harmonious number crunching to tell me how to think, feel and act."

"Wow, what happened to the Hermione Granger I knew in school?" Draco seemed honestly surprised. "That girl would have been all about facts and figures. I'd have expected her to whip out a chart by now."

Hermione sighed, and shrugged. "That girl was naive." She felt the need to explain herself for some unknown reason. Perhaps it had something to do with the look in Malfoy's eye - the one that said he wanted to probe further into her psyche. She figured that she might as well get it all out, then, to spare herself twenty questions later. "When I was married to Ron, I believed in Arithmancy whole-heartedly. I thought he and I we were somehow destined to be together - that everything we did was Fate - and_ that _alone was the reason we needed to stay married. Everyone seemed to agree, too. Ironically, it was Arithmancy that was used against me in my divorce as one of the reasons to try to force me to stay married, and it almost worked because of the way the marriage laws are on the books. So, now..." She shook her head and sighed, giving up on getting a refill. "No, I don't believe there is such thing a thing as destiny, Malfoy. Things aren't _meant_ to be and people aren't _fated_ to end up together. Maybe that sort of thing works for other races, but I don't see it for humans. We're too... random, because our choices aren't made solely on our astrological sign's compatibility, or because our primary numbers are even or odd, or even because of chemical attraction or mating hormones, but because we _choose_ with our human hearts and minds a course of action and follow it through." She smiled, tilting her head at the surprise on his features. "Don't get me wrong - I'm all for planning and attempting to cover all eventualities, but I also realize that we humans also listen to our instincts, which are neither rational nor logical necessarily. And_ that's_ what my lecture was about at the symposium: to remind the audience that people get married because they are emotionally connected, _not_ disconnected, as our antiquated wizarding laws reflect. For that reason, no one should be forced to stay married just because their Arithmatical numbers align, or their stars are in retrograde or whatever such nonsense our ancient forebears used as their excuse to force women into a subservant role in what should be an equal partnership."

He stared at her for a long while, peeking at her as if he was seeing a side of her he hadn't before… and perhaps that was an accurate description of the circumstances, as they'd certainly never sat and had such any sort of philosophical conversation before. They'd disliked each other from day one of their acquaintance, so why would they bother to try to get to know one another better?

"So, you _chose_ to sleep with me then, you're saying," he asked in a soft voice. "You didn't feel… coerced?"

Hermione sniffed and shook her head. "I admit I'm attracted to you and I was out of my right mind at first, yes, but… I didn't feel as if I was being _forced_. I could have said no at any time if I'd _really_ wanted to. Or I could have kicked you out of my hotel room at any time after that first go." She cleared her throat, feeling her cheeks burn up. "I suppose, that is."

"Why didn't you?" he pressed in a low-toned curiosity, clearly searching for something from her, his eyes roving her face for any indications as to the answer to an unspoken question.

She adjusted her glasses again (okay, so _maybe_ it was a nervous thing), and looked to the side and down. "Because…" She bit her lip shyly, afraid to speak, not knowing what was going to come out for the first time ever. She took a deep breath and let her thoughts have their freedom, jumping off the proverbial cliff. "It felt right. I _liked_ being out of control with you, even as it scared the bejeepers out of me. I guess I needed what you could give me. My life has been so... dull. Just like you said - boring. I live for work. The last time I hung out with any of my friends was ages ago. I've hermited myself away because of what Ron did to me. He dragged me through the coals trying to force me to stay with him even after I'd caught him so many times cheating. I've been gun shy about men ever since. Honestly, you're only the second man I've ever been with." Her lips twitched in embarrassment. "Our arguments - they're spontaneous and fun. And I can't really talk to anyone else like this. You're the first person I've met that I can have these sorts of discussions with." She looked at him from the sides of her eyes. "You know, I was used to you being so cruel and mean for so long, but… the _real_ you, deep down inside, he doesn't seem to be that way at all. At least, the part I've seen on this trip, anyway. Maybe I'm being presumptious, but I find you to be very... hot blooded, not the cold-hearted snake I'd always assumed. You're still annoying, but..." She closed her eyes, feeling a strange pang in her chest. "I wish you were like this back in school. We could have been friends. Maybe more."

There was a palpable silence between them, and in the empty space, Hermione's heart beat like a caged bird under her ribs.

Draco stood up abruptly, which caused her to jerk her head around and stare at him in surprise. He threw down some Euros on the table (where had he gotten those?), and grabbed her up into his embrace before she could react. His kiss was hot and passionate and filled with promise, and Hermione's tourist books tumbled to their feet as she let them go to grab his shirt for support as her knees quivered. The kiss felt… wonderful. She sighed into him in pleasure and allowed herself this chance. Maybe…

"Can I take you to my bed this time?" he asked softly in between kisses.

She nodded and pulled back. His mercurial eyes were practically shining in the sun. "Just let me get my things," she indicated the books at their feet. They bent together and collected her spilled items, then he held his hand out to her and waited. She stood and without a moment's hesitation, took it.

This was her decision - and it wasn't based on math, but on her heart.

They walked around to an alley that was far enough back not to attract notice, and with a wave of his wand, they side-Apparated out of Paris to… somewhere else.

X~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~X

It was a grand bedroom in an obviously old chateaux. That much she could tell by the brief glimpse around. But her attention was drawn away by Malfoy's hands and mouth again suddenly on her. This time, they purposefully both dropped her books to the floor to the sides, seduced by their equaled desire for the other.

"Where…?" she began, as he walked backwards and led her towards a large canopied bed in the middle of the room.

"My room. Family manor," he answered in between licking and nipping her lips and neck. "Libourne."

Her shirt was up and over her head, thrown to the floor casually. His shirt followed. "Oh," was all she could answer before he took her breath away by skimming his fingers over her ribcage. "Oooooh," she moan softly as he cupped her breasts over her bra. His mouth was a fiery cage against the pulse of her throat, and there was a tiny pain as he bit her a tad too hard, but he soothed it with his tongue immediately, lapping and sucking on her flesh. His hands roamed around her back to unhook her lingerie, and skim the straps off her shoulders, leaving her torso bared to him again. Cool fingers stroked her spine from top to bottom as he continued lathering his attention on her neck for long minutes, leaving a bruise behind, no doubt. Another mark of his possession of her.

Hermione's fingers trailed over his nipples and pecks, tracing his muscles, learning every crevice and angle, enjoying his attentions at the same time. "You're so… beautiful," she hummed against his neck. "Too much." Her breath was coming in gasps now as he groaned against her vein and sucked harder. The lava in her belly traveled lower to heat up her core, causing her knickers be to soaked by a hot flush of fluid. "Oh!" she gasped, wrapping her arms about his neck and holding on, feeling her legs shaking.

Malfoy's hands grabbed her arse, pulling her tight into his erection. He began rubbing up and down against her, making love to her over their clothes. "I want you," she whispered her secrets. "More than I probably should."

He pulled his mouth from her neck finally and licked her ear. "I feel the same," he admitted in that low voice that both lulled and enticed, nuzzling her cheek with his own. "I knew you'd do this to me, Granger. _I knew it._" His fingers moved around to the front of her shorts, unbuttoning and unzipping them. She felt the trembling in his limbs as he pulled them and her panties down her body, falling to his knees before her. He slid her clothes off her ankles, removed her sandals, and then ran those long, pale fingers up her calves and thighs. His face followed his trail, coming to the juncture of her thighs, nudging them to beg for admittance further. She lifted her leg, placed it on his shoulder and balanced herself by gripping him tightly. It was all the invitation he needed.

Gods, he could do magical things with that tongue and those hands of his! Hermione threw her head back and gasped, moaned, keened, and finally wailed as he brought her to orgasm in no time, his mouth sucking on her clit, two fingers buried up inside her, slowly pumping away. He lapped up her juices languidly, taking his time, enjoying working her back up. When he'd had his fill, he placed a final kiss over her lower lips, then stood, working his mouth over her body as he did so. He tongued her bellybutton, traced her sternum, circled her left areola, and finally latched on. "Yes," she muttered, feeling him suckle hard.

He let her go and paused, his mouth hovering over her nipple. She could feel his trembling increase through the grip she'd maintained on his shoulders. He seemed… indecisive about something. Had he rethought them doing this – _now_? Seriously? Her body was teetering on the edge of throwing itself at his feet and begging him to finish what he'd started. She wanted him to shag her senseless, and yet… here he was, pausing. "What's wrong?" she asked, not liking the desperation in her quavering voice. "Have I done something?"

Draco shook his head and kissed her hard instead. "I should have asked you the other day..." He sounded trepidatious. "Are you on any birth control?"

Oh. Now it made sense. "Yes, a monthly potion. I've taken it, I promise you."

Winter itself gazed into her soul and he nodded. "Sorry to ask."

Hermione threw him a tentative smile and shook her head. "Don't be." Now she was reassuring him! How did things always get twisted up between them? Feathering her fingertips along his jaw and cheek, her smile grew as her body tightened once more with need. "Don't leave me hanging, Malfoy. _I want you._"

With a groan, he captured her lips, reigniting the passion between them in seconds. He kicked off his shoes, and with her help, finished undressing. She wanted to take him in her mouth again, but he was impatient. Pushing her down into the middle of his large mattress, he roughly spread her legs, and shoved his thighs under hers, causing her hips to tilt up to the correct height. "Put me in," he growled against her lips, leaning on his elbows over her. Hermione reached down between them and firmly took him in her palm, stroking once, making him shiver, and then she guided him to her opening. Pulling her hand back and steadying it on his bicep, they hovered on the brink, staring at each other for another second or two before he slowly slid that thick, long shaft into her channel.

They both gasped at the feeling of being reunited. Hermione's heart was hammering now against her breast.

"Fuck, you feel _so good_," Draco buzzed against her lips, finally halting as he reached the end, buried to the balls in her. He kissed her with aching gentleness, which belied his actions a moment later as he began forcefully pumping in and out of her body with long, brutal strokes. "I _love_ fucking you, Granger," he admitted around a gasp, his breath mingling with hers as they stared into each other's eyes.

She closed her lids as the feelings fluttering through her threatened to give her away. "Yes, _oh, gods_… Draco… Never felt this before." Her mouth ran away with her, even as her body did, matching him thrust for thrust.

"Say my name again," he bid, increasing his pace. "Scream it when you cum for me, Hermione."

Nodding in agreement was all she was capable in that moment, as the electricity began to arc through her tummy, down into her womb, igniting where they were connected. Incoherent ramblings of "yes," and "oooh," and "ahhh!" escaped her lips, encouraging him to move faster and harder. She dug her nails into his shoulders and he gasped, giving into her demands.

"Close," he warned her. "Are you?"

She shoved her clit against his cock as he slammed into her. "Yes, oh… I'm cumming… I'm… _DRACO!_" she screamed, unable to stop herself, her body shoving him into her hard as she exploded in white heat. Her back arched off the bed as everything inside her rippled and compressed as her whole world peaked and floated above the clouds.

She came back into herself just in time to feel Malfoy tensing, ready to release… and with a shout of her name, and a series of hard thrusts, he came deep up into her moist, hot canal, discharging his life-giving seed into her with a series of powerful surges.

This had been the most profound experience of Hermione's life – more than her first kiss to Viktor Krum, more than losing her virginity to Ron, more than that moment when she'd witnessed Harry defeat the Dark Lord, more than her wedding day or the subsequent divorce grant by the Ministry judge, more than the moment she'd stood in front of an audience in Paris and asked them to overturn the laws on marriage that affected women's rights during an annulment because the laws were unfeeling and unfair to the female gender. It was even more powerful than the first time she'd made love to Draco Malfoy. This moment, right here and now… this was a turning point in her life. She felt things click into place in her mind, aligning up in her soul.

She felt a true sense of personal destiny - that which she had denied fervently not an hour ago - sweep her up in its arms for the first time in her life.

"_Oh, Godric_," she whispered and began crying inexplicably. Draco said nothing, simply held her, his body still locked into place with hers, his face pressed into her shoulder. For some reason, it almost seemed like he understood.

Long, long minutes later, when her tears finally bathed away, she rubbed a shaky hand over her cheek and nose. "I'm sorry…" she awkwardly apologized, not sure why she felt the need to explain herself, but knowing somehow that it was important she try. "I've never… felt that before. I've never known sex could be like this."

Malfoy sighed wearily. "Yeah," he agreed in her ear. "I know what you mean."

She blinked, surprised. Had he felt it, too? What did that mean?

He pulled back, looking down into her face, which she was sure was blotchy and probably not very attractive at the moment. Smoothing her hair away from her face and rubbing her tears away with tender touches, he gave her a sweet smile. "You've always twisted me around, Granger," he admitted with half disbelieving, half amazed chuckle. "This time, you've got me though. I think I'm really in trouble." He pressed a small kiss to her nose and then lay his forehead against hers, looking her in the eye. "You could probably bring me to my knees," he teased, then adjusted his hips. Immediately, she felt his softening member start to harden again inside her. "Speaking of which… I want you on yours now."

He pounced on her lips, making her forget all about her tremulous feelings, rekindling the flames between them. Within minutes, Hermione was lost in his expert seduction. She gave herself to him again that afternoon, before falling into an exhausted slumber in his arms, hardly noticing him pulling the duvet over them. The soft touch of his fingers playing with her curls quieted and reassured her into sleep.

X~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~X

She awoke while the sun was still in the sky, but clearly on its way to its twilight repose, as the light coming in through the window indicated. It was too warm, almost stiflingly so, and she realized that was because she was lying entangled in Malfoy's arms, pressed against him at every conceivable point, sharing his body heat. Pulling away slightly, she had to work his arms off her as he kept tightening up and tugging her back in his sleep unconsciously. When she'd finally extricated herself, she stood on wobbly legs, and looked about the room. There was an open door nearby, and it appeared to open into a bath. Feeling sticky and overheated, smelling of strong sex, she thought she could definitely use a shower right then.

Wincing as she walked (boy-o, was she sore!), she made her way to the bathroom, shut the door behind her and turned the shower on. After taking care of her toilet, she stepped into the tepid water with a sigh of contentment. There were two kinds of body bath available, both scented for a man – pear spice or eucalyptus and mint. She chose the former, the smell reminding her of Christmas for some reason. When her body had adjusted to the temperature and cooled down, she turned the heat on the faucet up, quickly steaming the room, and allowed the water to beat down on the back of her neck, enjoying the relaxing atmosphere.

Pale, strong hands brushed her wet hair off her shoulder, sweeping down her spine, around to her waist, up over her stomach to cup her breasts and push up, kneading and rolling. Draco's fully nude and aroused body was suddenly spooning hers from behind, and his mouth pressed to her ear at the same time, his voice causing things low to clench with desire.

"_You're_ so beautiful, Hermione. I've wanted you for years and years, and you're finally mine."

His lips and tongue ran over the shell and down her throat to latch back over the place he'd spent so much time suckling before. Again, he pressed his teeth over the mark and there was that tiny stinging pain, followed by a rush of warmth between her legs in answer to him hitting one of her turn-on spots. Her magical aura was caressed, soothed by his own, and instead of feeling panic, she welcomed the touch, allowing her energies to explore back. Draco gasped, obviously enjoying that feel. "Witch," he hissed, pulling his mouth off of her for a second before dropping back down onto her again.

He pinched her nipples as his lips suckled lightly on her skin, drawing the tiny, rose-colored buds out and away from her body slightly, tugging to the point where it was almost pain, and then letting them go. He repeated this over and over as his penis rubbed between her cheeks from behind. His tongue lapped against her sensitive skin as his mouth latched on and drew hard pressure over her throat now. Malfoy groaned, and the vibration awoke something primal again inside Hermione's body, bringing out the temptress again.

"Come inside me," she growled. "Just like this. Do me hard." She wiggled against his cock, pressing back against him.

With a shudder, he slid one hand down between them, tipped her slightly more forward – never releasing his mouth from her shoulder crease – and brought his member in line with her body. Grabbing her hips, he shoved hard, thrusting deep. She cried out, loving the feel of being so forcefully opened up. With slow, gentle strokes, he began moving. Soon, the hand on her right hip moved around to find her clit and the fingers brushed it with great skill, working her into a frenzy of pulsating, wet need. Yet, Malfoy's body never sped up; he kept up that insanely slow rhythm, his mouth still locked on her neck.

Within minutes, Hermione had reached the precipice, and straining, moaning, shouting her pleasure, she toppled over, every muscle in her lower body clenching around his solid steel length. Her lover stilled, obviously wanting to experience her body's reaction fully. Without warning, he licked her neck once more and let go, then gripped her hips hard and started slamming into her with pent-up need. "Take it," he snarled almost animalistic in intensity. "Take _me_!" He exploded into her with a shout, continuing to pump his body into hers until he was fully drained.

Hermione's whole body was tingling as the warm flush of his fluids mingled with her own. The thought of his seed so deep inside thrilled her. She almost wished she hadn't taken any potion… What was happening to her? This wasn't like her to think such irresponsible things.

Malfoy leaned over her, letting her body go, sliding out of her as he started to go flaccid. He placed his palms against the wall on either side, sucking air in his heaving chest in deep pants. Too stunned to move or speak, Hermione straightened up some, but couldn't, for the life of her, make herself turn around and face him. She felt… off. Dizzy almost. Her knees knocked together and it was an effort to keep her eyes open suddenly.

When he'd regained enough control, Draco wrapped his arms about her and held her back to his chest, nuzzling his nose against her hair. "It's okay," he soothed, as if sensing her distress. "I've got you." Turning her about, he picked her up easily, holding her to him with one arm supporting her bum, the other turning the shower off. He carried her out of the shower and sat her on the vanity, then grabbed a towel from the large rack nearby and started drying her off.

With effort, Hermione looked up, narrowed her eyes to get rid of the fuzz, and frowned. "Why is there… a bit of blood on your chin?"

Draco froze. "Probably bit my lip when I came," he teased, but it was an obvious lie.

With instincts screaming that something was wrong, Hermione's fingers trailed up to her neck, touching the mark he'd been sucking on. It hurt to caress the skin. It felt raw. She pulled her fingers away and brought them to her face. Without her glasses, it was difficult to get a picture that wasn't a little blurry, but even she could see that there was nothing there. For some reason, she felt relief. For a minute there, she'd thought…

No, that was ridiculous. It must have been as Draco had said. The blood was his.

She shook her head and threw him a tired smile, yawning. "Sorry… but I'm really exhausted right now. You've sexed me to death practically."

Wrapping the towel about her, Malfoy grinned. "Yes, well, I've been known for wearing a woman or two out before," he boasted, his joke clearing the air of its former awkwardness. He gently picked her up in his arms again and brought her back into the bedroom. "Come on, I'll dry your hair with my wand and you can take another nap. I'll get one of the house elves to bring us food later."

Sleepily, she clung to him, pressing her nose into the crook of his neck, not wanting to let go once he laid her down in the bed again. "Stay with me," she purred in exhaustion, her eyes shutting of their own volition as soon as her head hit the pillow. Her last thought before the darkness took her was to wonder why Draco wasn't as tired as she was.

* * *

_**TO BE CONTINUED…**_


	3. Chapter 3: The Ecstasy of Venus

**CHAPTER THREE: **_**The Ecstasy of Venus**_

_**June 3, 2004 (Thursday)**_

Hermione awoke on Thursday morning to the feeling of warm kisses pressed down her spine. She was on her belly, her arms above her head, under a pillow, cradling her head when her eyelashes fluttered open. An insistent hand feathered up the back of her right thigh and dipped down between her legs to tease her opening with two fingers. She moaned, and unknotted her muscles, shutting her eyes again to indulge, and allowed herself to relax into Draco's tender love making.

Her lover's tongue wetly traced a path across the sway of her hind, above her bum, trailing upwards, across each vertebra to the back of her neck. He gently brushed her hair to the right side and allowed his mouth access to her throat once more. Biting very gently on the tender skin just below her earlobe created shivers down her spine. She moaned again, turning her face down and into the pillow, giving Draco better access. He took full advantage, nipping and lathing her over her pulse – over the spot he'd given his full attention to last night - then across her shoulder, finally retracing his trail. Between her legs, he slowly, tenderly entered her wet, pulsing channel with his fingertips just as he breathed hotly into the shell of her ear. "Open your legs wider," he whispered in that low, honeyed voice that made her melt. She complied without question or hesitation, and was rewarded with a powerful thrust of his hand that wrung a feral, rowdy moan from the back of her throat. Her body stretched open again to the point of almost pain and her hips began gyrating fervently in time with his movements.

"That's it, princess," he coaxed, kissing her upper jaw. "Let go for me."

Hermione nodded, incapable of articulate speech at the moment, allowing her body to ride out the insistent and provocative stimulation Draco provided. She gasped and moaned, even wailed at one point when his rhythm increased, bringing her to the brink and then backing off intentionally. He had her panting with pent-up desire in minutes.

"Do you want it now?" he asked in a low, sultry voice, stopping his pumping actions entirely, but leaving his fingers embedded into her, twitching the tips slightly to tease and rub against her g-spot. "Do you want me inside you? Tell me."

She turned her head, looking at him over her shoulder. His eyes were pools of fathomless silver in the pale morning light. "You know I do," she told him earnestly, scenting her strong, musky arousal in the air between them. "Please don't tease."

Draco kissed the corner of her lips and withdrew his fingers, settling himself between her legs. She felt the hard, hot length of him press between her cheeks. Beside her on the mattress, he braced his palms. Automatically, she tilted her hips up for him as he slid his penis down and eased into her. "Gods above, your pussy is so sweet, Granger," he groaned breathlessly. "It's like warm, liquid silk around my cock. And we fit so _fucking_ _perfectly_." He finished the sentiment just as the very end of his shaft reached her entrance and he was fully embedded inside her. She shut her eyes and swallowed, thrilling in the feel of every centimeter of him held tightly inside by every centimeter of her as he paused to let them both enjoy the moment. His mouth found the area he'd marked the night before and pressed over it once again, kissing lightly. It hurt when he bit her a little too hard, as the skin was still bruised from his previous attentions, but Hermione had no will to protest or to make him stop just then, as an unexpected rush of warmth between her legs made her acutely aware that he was moving his hips.

It was pure rapture when Draco began making love to her with exquisite care, his mouth latched onto her neck once more. He meltingly coaxed from her a fiery release with slow, rhythmic lunges that caressed hidden nerve endings, drawing all the way out and moving completely back in until the very hilt of him met her pelvis. Hermione cascaded and fell apart into convulsive flames quickly, screaming her pleasure into the pillow as her womb ignited in rippling, suckling spasms. Fighting to breathe around her silent tears, she was moved utterly by the rioting emotions in her chest, not fully comprehending why something so wonderful could be this emotionally shattering.

Draco stilled entirely upon the onset of her orgasm, experiencing her body's reaction to the fullest. When the swelling and contracting within ceased and she lay bathed in glowing feelings, only then did he continue his previous pace, drawing out completely, and easing back in with infinite patience. He leaned down onto his elbows, pressing his chest against her back slightly, careful not to crush her. His hips never stopped moving, even as he placed his mouth next to her ear. "Tell me the truth, Hermione," he requested in a soft lull. "Have you ever felt this with anyone else?"

She shook her head, her cheek sliding across the pillow, her eyes closed in ecstasy. "No. I… I've never… It's… Draco, you feel _perfect_. This feels _so right_." It was as honest and candid a response as she could give. Ron had never made her feel so free, nor as sexy, nor as cherished as Draco did; her ex-husband had been clumsy and self-indulgent in bed, never seeming to get their pace or her needs right, concerned mostly with his own gratification. As Draco glided above her now, brushing against a particularly erotic spot inside, causing electricity to shot through her fluttering womb, she could feel his throbbing need to find his completion, and yet, he continued to hold back for her. Hermione hummed in true ecstasy. "Mmmm, yes! _Please_, don't stop."

Draco's nose nuzzled her temple, and his right hand slid under the pillow to grasp hers. Their fingers entwined. "Will you let me go with you on your trip then? Will you let me keep doing this with you? Will you give us a real chance… to see where this leads, Granger?"

Behind her ribs, Hermione's heart skipped three beats. Draco sounded almost desperate for her to agree. And she knew what her answer was even as it popped from her mouth, unscripted. "Yes... _oh, Godric, _yes!"

He kissed her cheek even as his pace increased and he tensed up his lower muscles. His silken-steel length was shoving into her rougher, as deep as possible, hitting against her cervix at the back of her passage with each lunge of his hips. Her pussy flexed around his thrusting cock in response, causing her body to spiral higher towards its peak. "Almost there?" he asked, his breathing a heavy, deep curtain of air skimming against her back.

She shoved her arse back against him and nodded, feeling the trembling burning in her thighs as they tightened. "So close. A little harder…"

Her new lover committed to her what she wanted, his hips pistoning in and out with force. "Cum for me, sweetheart. Give yourself to me again," he bid, the velvety darkness in his voice reaching into her very center and freeing her reckless, lustful self once more. Mindless to nothing but reaching her pleasure now, Hermione began thrusting back in time with him, crying out and panting with abandon. "That's it… Let me make you cum, Hermione. Let go for me," Draco breathed, a devilish, seductive heat pouring from his lips along with his words.

Without moving off her, her lover got his knees under him, shoving her backside higher into the air and began truly pounding away, his mouth moving back to lock onto her neck simultaneously. His left hand mirrored its twin in grabbing hers and twining their fingers together. The meaty sound of their slapping, joining flesh mingled with their moaning and gasping exclamations of pleasure as they rocked the bed with their intense fucking.

Too soon, Hermione reached her second orgasm. Shards of brilliant, white fire exploded around her aching, engorged clitoris, and inside the overstretched flesh of her canal, and behind her eyelids as well as she arched her hips up sharply to meet his final thrust. This time, he completed the circle and came in her with a loud, vibrating moan of pleasure, even as he bit harder on her throat. His ripe seed erupted through her canal in powerful, warm jets that seemed to go on and on, prolonging her own high by several seconds. For the span of a few short heartbeats, Hermione actually experienced _le petite mort_, the "little death," as her vision blacked and she lost consciousness. She came to as Draco's final, tired release was wrung from him and his grip relaxed. With a grunt of amazed and complete satisfaction, he simply crumpled on top of her, his forehead wearily brushing against the back of her neck, his perspiring brow sliding wetly over her spine even as his chest struggled to contain his explosive breaths.

Experiencing their combined climax was exactly how Hermione had imagined touching the stars would feel like – burning, intense delight mingled with a cosmic awe of the unknown and the Divine. With their bodies locked together fiercely in feeling this last time, Hermione's inhibitions – her heart's protective restraint - had been stripped from her, and her mental shields had simply surrendered and dropped away. A melding of their magical auras occurred, and in those few moments, she'd felt an unbridled, interminable _need_ to be with Draco Malfoy, to never disconnect their bodies, to remain at his side for always. Strangely, the sentiment was an exact reflection of his for her; she felt him as surely as she felt her own emotions.

At the time, it had been harmonious perfection - sharing a heartbeat, the same air, and the same overpowering, compulsive sentiment. But now, as she lay under Draco's hard, angular body, crushed into the mattress, his and her combined juices leaking down between her thighs… the incident she'd just experienced with him absolutely terrified her. What was happening between them?

Shaking almost violently in a combination of physical release and emotional shock, Hermione was silent, her mind having gone numb and silent for only the second time in her life (the first being after Bellatrix Lestrange had tortured her so thoroughly with the Cruciatus Curse that she wasn't even sure if up was down or down was up at one point). She stared at her fingers, which were still entwined with her lover's on the sheets next to her head, and felt very small and afraid suddenly.

Malfoy finally regained his strength, withdrew from her gently, and relaxed back in bed to her side, letting her hands go. She couldn't see him, but she felt him pull on her left shoulder, and she was gently turned onto her side, her body cradled into Draco as he molded himself into her curves. He pressed his wet, exhausted shaft between her arse cheeks, slipping his arms about her at the same time, nudging his left leg between her two. His lips once more favored his favorite nibble spot on her throat with a gentle kiss and he sighed. "I've got you, Hermione," he whispered against her sensitized skin. "Just close your eyes and rest, sweetheart. It'll help."

Strangely, she _was_ tired again, and a little nauseous. Not having had sex in so long and then engaging in a lot of hot shagging so often must be wearing out her overworked, overstressed body. Relaxing into Draco's warm safety, she closed her weary eyes and let herself go off into the land of glittering dreams once more.

X~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~X

When Hermione woke, she was alone, and sore as all hell between her legs and on the side of her neck. Groggily standing up, she stumbled to the bathroom, much as she had the morning after the first time she and Draco had lain together. Thankfully, she was not as hung-over this time around – just really stiff and muzzy. She made her way to the bathtub, turned the spigots on and climbed in, letting the water fill around her. Laying her head back against the lip, she closed her eyes to try to stop the room from tilting.

She must have fallen asleep again, because the next thing she was aware of was Draco's body holding hers against his chest, both of them enjoying a steamy, warm bath together that smelled lightly of warm amber and was layered with delightfully tickling bubbles. "Awake finally?" his soft voice in her ear soothed her. He hummed against the shell, placing kisses as he moved around it. "You sleep like the dead, you know," he teased her as he gave her adoring attention. She felt the stretch of his smile against her temple. "I think shagging you into insensibility is my new favorite hobby, Granger."

She rubbed at her eyes sleepily and yawned. "Although I've enjoyed it very much, Malfoy, eventually I'd really like to see the rest of Europe, too. This is my only chance for a holiday, you know."

He pulled back and turned her face by applying pressure with two fingers against her jaw line. "Your only chance?"

Hermione blinked, not used to her eyes being this clear after just waking, and certainly not without her glasses. She could see Draco's features somewhat better today. "I've been saving up all my work-off days and my money for years. I probably won't be able to afford to do this again. And I know I won't be able to get this much time off for at least another four to five years." She raised an eyebrow at him when he gave her a look like he'd just tasted sour lemons. "Sorry, but some of us don't own our own companies or come from great wealth, Malfoy. You're one of the lucky ones."

Grinning outrageously, he arrogantly agreed. "I am, aren't I? It's hard being this beautiful, smart _and_ rich."

Rolling her eyes, Hermione reached for one of the folded wash cloths on the side of the brown and cream colored marble edge. Draco's longer arm reached it before her, his other settling her further onto his lap. "Just lay back and relax," he instructed with a ridiculous smirk, gripping a roll of soap between the fabric's folds. Using his other hand, he lathered foam on the cloth and then brought the soft towel to her arm and began washing her up.

Leaning her cheek against his shoulder, Hermione gave in, too tired to protest. Her mind was now whirling through the events of the last week. "Draco, what are we doing? Seriously."

Her lover stopped for a moment. Literally froze – no breathing, no sound, and no movement – as if he were worried about how to reply correctly. "I'm molesting you while pretending to bathe you and you're enjoying it," he teased, covering for the awkward pause smoothly by rubbing one of her nipples with the cloth, bringing the rosy tip to hardness instantly. His other hand slipped around her narrow waist and started running through the curls between her legs. "Surely, you could have figured that out on your own, Granger, considering your state of _en dishabille_ and where my hands are currently playing."

Sighing in reigniting pleasure, she closed her eyes. "Don't play daft. You know what I mean," she tried to keep focused by ignoring the licks of flame that began curling through her womb. "We drive each other crazy. Besides, I'm Muggle-born. Why isn't that enough incentive to send you running for the hills?"

She felt his head turn fully to look down at her, and was suddenly too shy to look up at him. Purposefully keeping her eyes closed, she burrowed her nose deeper into the pale curve of his throat.

When he replied, Draco sounded weary. "First of all, I don't care about that blood purity shite anymore. I learned my lesson from the war. Hell, half of the supposed Pureblood families aren't even what they claim to be anyway." Here he paused, seemed to consider following that issue further, but quite obviously changed tactics at the last moment. Even in her tired state and without seeing his face, it was hard for Hermione to miss the subtle clues as to his thought-process: the straightening of the back, the stiffening of the muscles under her cheek, the clearing of his throat and the change in tone and volume all told of his discomfort over the direction that topic was heading. "Secondly, Granger, you've _always _fascinated me, even when you made me angry enough to curse or hex you," he admitted wryly, attempting to move the discussion along. "Third, I only hated you because I knew I couldn't have you. You were Potter's go-to girl and I was the son of a Pureblood-obsessed Death Eater. It wasn't going to happen then, no matter how much I may have wanted it to." He feathered the wash cloth around the tender flesh on her shoulder, where he'd been paying far too much attention lately. Hermione was betting that bruise was going to be extremely ugly in a few days. "If I'd have had more guts, though, I'd have claimed you in Fourth Year. That would have probably changed everything that came after."

He was quiet again, as if reliving those horrid times in his mind; his tone was laced with deep regret. Hermione didn't want to bring Draco down or make him feel badly about a poorly-shared childhood that neither of them could undo now. "The past is done," she firmly decided, closing that chapter and not wanting to reopen it again. It was too painful, obviously for both of them. "But none of that explains the here and now. This has happened so fast and our personalities are _so_ different. You're infuriating because you're very blasé about… well… everything, and I know my need to prepare, to plan and to take things a little more seriously seems to drive you spare."

Malfoy chuckled darkly. "It definitely does that, yes."

"And you may be comfortable with the concept, but I don't do casual relationships, Draco. It's not in me," she explained firmly, needing for him to understand and respect her feelings. She didn't want to be used, and if this wasn't going to end up being a more permanent thing between them, she needed him to be man enough to tell her now. She was already in deeper than she had ever expected or wanted to be with Draco Malfoy, and she'd promised herself after her divorce had been finalized that no man would ever have enough power over her to hurt her as Ronald Weasley had.

Draco had been quiet for long minutes, moving the cloth across her throat to the other side, scrubbing down her collar to her other breast. When he finally spoke again, his tone simmered with the hint of anger under the surface. "You said you'd give this a chance, Hermione," he reminded her, and a flush of awareness and memory of the promise she had made flooded through her, pinking her cheeks. "We're different, sure," he continued without seeming to notice the hot flush through her, "But there's a lot we have in common, too. I've never…" Here he stopped, and she felt his larynx bob as he swallowed in what seemed to be apprehension. "I haven't ever intellectually connected with a woman like I have with you. You're clever and funny, and… I like talking to you, riling you up. Always have. You're interesting, even when you're being bossy. You're not boring in the least, Hermione, and that's damned attractive." He bent his mouth next to her ear, dropping the wash cloth and cupping warm water in his free hand, letting it slide through his fingers to rinse off the soap from the areas he'd managed to get to. "But there's also this other side of me that likes you in a completely different way, and it's _really_ hard to ignore that side. It likes the smell and taste and feel of your body, Granger. It likes the way you respond to me. It likes that we _fit_." He nuzzled her lobe with his nose, inhaling deeply and exhaling in pleasure. Against her leg, Hermione felt Draco's erection grow. "I've never fit with anyone before." His fingers gently stroked the bruise on her neck, and she shivered in instantaneous, gnawing desire, squirming on her lover's lap to ease the sudden rush of warm fluids between her legs. "I like what's going on between us too much to walk away without giving it a chance. Don't you?"

Lifting her head finally to look him in the eye, Hermione swallowed heavily against her misgivings and chewed on her lower lip. "You're going to hurt me. I just know it."

Draco stared at her enigmatically for a few seconds, then he swept his hand up to cup her jaw and kissed her hotly, twining his tongue around hers in a deliberate, measured pass, his lips branding her again. He tasted like cherry-apple herbal tea. When he pulled them apart with a final swipe against her mouth, he rested his forehead against hers. Along the inside of his thumb, Hermione could feel his pulse racing against her cheek. "I hope this won't hurt either of us, Granger." He kissed her fiercely then, his hand traveling down to cup her left breast, his thumb brushing against her nipple once more, causing the rosy bud to firm up tight against his palm. "I fucking hope to Merlin not," he murmured as he repositioned her over his cock and filled her again with confusing, consuming, tremulous feelings.

X~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~X

After another half hour of love making that left Hermione breathless and waterlogged, she was able to finally pry Draco off long enough to get out of the tub, dry off and dress. He combed the tangles out of her hair as she sat on the bed, and tied the thick mass of caramel-colored curls back for her with the hair clip she'd been wearing yesterday. Gathering her glasses, books, and purse (wand tucked safely inside), he Apparated them back to her hotel room, where she changed clothes – casual Muggle jeans, dark blue baby-doll tee, canvas low-top trainers. Brushing her teeth, re-combing her hair and braiding it back, and tying the fashionable scarf that she'd bought Molly at the Museum the other day around her neck to hide the purpling bruise that her new romantic interest had left (love bites were _so gauche!_ ...and now she'd have to get something else for Molly), she spritzed into the air some of the perfume Draco had given her very lightly and walked into the mist, then dabbed some on the points behind her ears, inner elbow and wrists as she'd been taught by the woman at Thierry Mugler the other day. She completed the outfit with some silver hoop earrings and her required glasses.

Back in the main room, she moved to the dresser and reached for the bag that held Draco's gifts. "For you," she blushed, looking down at the floor, holding the bag out. "To… thank you for the lovely perfume."

From her peripheral vision, she saw Draco reach out hesitantly and take the offering, seemingly surprised to be receiving anything from her. He sat down on the edge of the bed and patted it for her to join him. Nervously, she took a seat to his left, her heart suddenly racing in anticipation. Would he like the presents? What if he didn't?

She heard the rustle of the bag as he withdrew the larger of the gifts. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw his patented smirk wind up the left side of his cheek. "Only you would get someone a book for a holiday token," he snickered in good humor. As he opened the cover to where the bookmark lay, his eyes softened, as did his smile. "Silver and green," he murmured, and shook his head in what looked like amazement. He began flipping through the art book randomly then. She noticed a lascivious grin overtake him as he stopped on one particular page. "Nice." She glanced over to note that he was staring at the stunning, half-naked brunette _Odalisque (1857)_ and snorted, shaking her own head in amusement. He stopped a few more times at similar nude women, his leer growing wider by the moment, then he snapped the book shut and turned to her, his silver eyes practically glowing in mirth. "Buying me a pornographic book, Granger? You're offending my sensibilities now."

She laughed and stood up, preparing to collect her things so they could leave for lunch. "You _have_ no sensibilities, Malfoy."

Forgetting the speed of Draco's reflexes (he _had_ been Slytherin's Seeker, once upon a time), she failed to dodge in time as his hand whip out and grab her wrist. Before she could react to the shock of his lightning quick grip, he'd pulled her towards him until she found herself unexpectedly straddling his lap. He laid the art book off to the side, then wrapped his arms about her and pulled her intimately against him. "Not where you're concerned, no. I'm utterly senseless around you, princess." Their faces even, he zoomed in for another scorching, wet kiss, grinding his arousal against her at the same time.

Honestly, the man was insatiable!

A weak protest died on her lips when he nipped his way down her throat, nudging the stole to the side, to lick over the black-and-blue bite mark once more. Shuddering from the strength of sweet, reviving desire burning through her veins – she'd never known that spot to be particularly arousing until Malfoy had found it and exploited it – her hands caressed up his light, cotton button-down to roam over his tight pecks, suddenly needing to feel all of him once more. How fast could she get his clothes off of him, she absently wondered as he continued to bathe her skin with the soft pad of his tongue.

When he trilled in a low rumbling against her accelerated pulse over his previous marking, the sound vibrated straight to her core, causing a flush of arousal to dampen her knickers once more. With the rush of fluids between her thighs, Hermione came to immediately, realizing that she was falling back into the alluring trap of hot, wanton sex, and pulled away reluctantly. Forcing her shaky legs to support her, she stood and backed off his lap, taking several steps away. "Merlin, how do you _do_ that to me?" she asked, her heart slamming against the underside of her ribs, her lungs keeping pace. She shook her head and held a hand out to halt him opening his mouth and replying. "No, don't answer that." Taking a deep breath, she tried to regain her senses, adjusting her glasses over her nose in that coping gesture she'd only just realized the other day was reserved exclusively for her interactions with Draco Malfoy. "I really wanted to go see the city today, and you're distracting me… again." Turning to grab her purse, she made sure her hotel key, wand, Muggle wallet and Wizarding money pouch were tucked inside.

Malfoy came up behind her, rubbing his hands all up and down her sides, nestling his bulging pelvis into the crease of her buttocks. He bent his tall frame down and nestled his lips against her neck again. "We can go see the city tonight," he informed her, raining kisses against her overheated flesh (why wasn't the damned air conditioning in the room kicking on already?). "Paris after dark is better anyway. I'll take you somewhere fun. Promise." His long, pale fingers reached around, caressing her belly under her shirt. "Right now, just let me have you." He wetly lathed over his favorite spot on her shoulder once more, mercilessly driving her senses wild. "I _have_ to be inside you, Granger. I _have_ to feel you again. I need you."

Gods above, she wanted him. But she also wanted to see something other than a series of bedrooms on her vacation. Squirming away, she held a hand out to ward him off. "Behave or I'll go out alone," she threatened, although not with any kind of heat. Truthfully, it was hard to speak so firmly with her knees knocking together.

With a deep sigh, Malfoy laced his fingers behind his head and tilted to look at the ceiling, expelling a sigh of frustration at the same time. "Fine. But I need a cold shower now."

Hermione couldn't help but giggle at his petulance. "Spoiled," she countered, and looked back towards the bed with a small amount of regretful pining, her eyes alighting on the brown paper sack once more. "Oh! There's one more gift inside the bag for you," she realized.

Draco's eyebrow raised and he turned back to it, reaching in and pulling out the small snake figurine. "It's carved from Aventurine," she told him, blushing. "The wizard at the market said it's the likeness of the snake king, Vasuki, who's said to loop over the neck of the Hindu Supreme God, Shiva, to watch over him. Personally, I liked how detailed it is, especially the cobra's hood flaring like that. The markings are amazing." She looked up to see him trying to repress a smirk of amusement by pursing his lips, his grey eyes glinting mischievously. The git was having fun at her expense again, she could just feel it! Shrugging nonchalantly, Hermione tried to play the gift off as no big deal. "Maybe you're related or something, Malfoy. You're too much a snake at heart not to be."

"Slytherin in the soul," he reiterated their conversation from yesterday, and Hermione huffed in dry agreement, turning to collect her things again. She arranged everything neatly in her purse, and headed for the door.

"You've starved me to death, you git, so you're buying lunch," she grabbed her rumbling tummy and threw him a jesting grin. "And then we're going wine tasting at _O Chateaux_, and if there's time, we're taking their one hour champagne-tasting cruises down the Seine." She threw open the door of her hotel room with gusto. "So... chop, chop, Monsieur! We're seeing Paris today if it kills us!"

X~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~X

The day was perfect. After sharing in the experience of haute cuisine at the world famous _Guy Savoy_ Restaurant (where the chef was secretly a wizard; the man came out to actually speak with them personally once Malfoy had passed on his compliments for the delicious meal), they did the wine tasting and even managed to get in on the six o'clock champagne cruise (Hermione suspected Draco charmed the reservations girl – bint that she was, with her tart-y, little skirt and blossoming cleavage and too-high heels! - into arranging for them a spot on the already-booked tour by the way the pretty bird kept throwing Draco suggestive eyes).

As they sat next to each other on the open-end railing of the boat now, sipping their third sampling – a Lucien Albrecht Crémant d'Alsace Brut Rosé (Champagne) – Hermione leaned back into her lover's arms, enjoying the warmth against her slightly chilled skin. She'd had an awful lot to drink today and was feeling liberally relaxed and fuzzy now. "Draco…"

He leaned his face down to brush cheeks with her and she could feel his easy smile sweep against her skin. "Granger…"

She halted her train of thought and narrowed in on something rather important... "Why do you always call me by my surname?"

He placed a kiss against the corner of her mouth. "I don't always call you that, Hermione. But for some reason, I rather like calling you by your last name. It's… amusingly nostalgic. And it reminds me that you're no longer a Weasley."

Oh, well, that made perfect sense. Of course, that could just be because the sparkling wine made the whole idea rather funny to her to begin with. She giggled realizing how comical Malfoy could be sometimes.

"You were going to ask me something else?" he prodded her, his breath warm and scented like apples and berries and alcohol. It caused a trail of electric tingles down her spine and made her realize just how much she had come to crave his nearness. She longed to feel him between her thighs again, pumping his hot, hard length into her and saying her name as he came deep inside… This was turning out to be the best holiday ever!

"What were you researching?" she asked, referring to their conversation yesterday. For some reason, she couldn't tamp down her curiosity on the matter.

There was a pregnant pause, and she felt him stiffen slightly under her. "I thought we settled this already," he replied, and lifted his head away from her to take another gulp of his drink. "It's a secret, Granger. That means I don't want to tell you. Not yet anyway."

Leaning her head back and blinking around her glasses, she grinned gamely at him. "So mysterious, that's what you are," she slightly slurred, feeling the afternoon's imbibing beginning to catch up because of her empty stomach. That reminded her… "I'm hungry again," she sniffed. "We should get some food soon. Otherwise, I might end up falling down drunk." She downed the last of her Champagne, then turned and gave the roaming waiter the cue (waving him down goofily) for him to come pick up her empty glass.

Behind her, Draco also placed his empty glass on the server's tray, and he chuckled, wrapping his arms about her waist and pulling her tightly into him. She could feel his erection pressing against the back of her jeans. "Is that all you think about, Granger – food?" he kidded.

She snorted a bit indelicately. "About as much as you think about sex," she countered in a joking whisper, rubbing her backside sneakily against him.

He groaned into her shoulder bend. "I am going to shag you senseless tonight. You know that, don't you?"

Hermione giggled again before turning to more important, pressing, serious topics. "So, where should we go eat?"

X~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~X

After returning to the hotel for a brief change of clothes (Draco Apparated back to his Manor House in England for a quick change), they met up at the rave-reviewed _Hiramatsu_ for dinner. The restaurant had a very romantic atmosphere, as they were given a special private area all to themselves which was curtained off (again, thanks to Malfoy's influence – and no doubt a hefty bribe paid to the concierge and restaurant manager). They dined on Raviole de foie gras, a tomato compote with aged balsamic vinaigrette, roasted veal and asparagus in a fresh morel (which Hermione discovered was a type of wild mushroom) cream sauce, a selection of cheeses from the local _fromages_ experts, and they shared a chocolate cheesecake served with a pineapple-mango marmalade. They toasted the holiday they were enjoying together, and as they sipped on a smooth, oak-aged Chardonnay, they stared into each other's eyes, measuring, tentatively feeling each other out. This was officially their first date, after all.

After dinner, they walked about the city streets, hand in hand, talking about their work, learning new things about each other. Hermione was surprised to hear that Draco had a male secretary, for instance (she'd always assumed he'd want to be fawned over by gorgeous female employees, but it turned out that he respected efficiency over appearance for the job as his executive assistant), and he was equally as stunned by the revelation that she actually had more authority in the Ministry than her best male friend, Harry Potter. They griped about the things they hated about their jobs, and then praised the things that made their careers worth every minute of the annoyances. They avoided, for now, asking intimately personal (and potentially harmful) topics – like Hermione's marriage or Draco's slagging around with every available and attractive woman on the planet.

By eleven o'clock, they decided to check out the nightlife. Hermione had only been to a handful of dance clubs with Ginny when they were younger, but once she'd married Ron, that had pretty much ended; she hadn't been back to one since. Draco, on the other hand, knew Paris' naughty side after dark quite well. Since she liked all things Muggle (and he apparently didn't mind their music so much), they Apparated from the safety of a well-concealed niche to a club called Batofar, a place sat dead in the middle of an old, converted barge that floated in dock on the Seine. The semi-darkened space was simply packed with young, nubile 20-somethings (many of whom had their shirts off, or dangerously close to), as a heavy Euro Hip-Hop beat filled the area. Draco took her hand and dragged her towards the dance floor.

Hermione had never danced as daringly sensuous in her whole life. Things started out innocent enough as they moved to the beat within a respectful distance from each other, enjoying the variety of music, but within half an hour, as the music changed over to Trance, Draco pressed in close, his hands roaming over her from shoulder down to spine before cupping her buttocks and grinding their hips together hard. "Venus" was the name of the song, and as Hermione looked into Draco's eyes, she felt as if he were speaking the words directly into her heart as he moved against her in sinuous weaving patterns that left her dizzy and as weak kneed as a kitten. By the end of the song, they were both visibly perspiring from a combination of the overheated room, the press of bodies about them, and the intensity of the moment they had just shared.

"Ecstasy" was next, and as if by fate (which Hermione firmly _did not_ believe in!) the lyrics seemed to reflect exactly what Hermione was feeling for Draco in that moment. Her inner temptress taking over, emboldened by the look in his eye, she ran her hands possessively and unashamedly over Malfoy's tight, well-defined chest slowly, then down his abs and around to grab his arse and pull him back into her. He lifted her slightly in unspoken agreement and she rubbed up and down on the solid length of him through his pants. His lips pressed in over her ear and he spoke his command – just three little words.

"Cum for me."

A hand moved in between them and slipped under her short skirt, pressing against the front of her satin panties, and she watched her seducer's face as he discovered how wet she really was; Draco closed his eyes in clear desire, and when he opened them again, there was a predatory gleam in the mercurial depths. With a quick adjustment, he slipped his fingers under the band of her knickers and plunged into her dripping lower lips, smearing her juices all up and down with two passes before pressing into her hard. Right there on the blaring dance floor, surrounded by a mass of people, the lights above dim enough to hide them, and the noise and scent of sweaty, aroused dancers moving all about them, Hermione indulged in the forbidden, feeling like she was flying as she was brought quickly to climax.

Draco nipped at her throat as his fingers teased and rubbed that sensitized spot just on the upper inside of her entrance even as his thumb rolled her clit. He pressed his tongue over his special mark on her shoulder and sparks exploded through every nerve in her body. Flinging her head back in wanton abandon, Hermione came with a great cry, her hands grabbing Draco's silken, platinum strands and pulling him in tightly. She felt his vibrating moan against her throat.

Withdrawing his fingers quickly, he ran them up to his lips first, and then hers, polishing their mouths with her release. He licked his hand clean and leaned forward for a passionate kiss next. As quickly as they began, however, he pulled away, tugging her skirt back down and then dragging her after him off the dance floor to the coat room to collect their things. With her purse and light sweater in hand, Malfoy led them back through the bowels of the ship towards an exit, and only when they were safely out of sight of Muggles, he asked her for his wand back (he'd passed it over to her earlier, and she'd put it in her purse for safekeeping). Once the wooden rod was in his hand, he grabbed her rather roughly into his embrace and Apparated them back to his bedroom in Libourne.

Dropping his wand as soon as they arrived, he began tearing at Hermione's clothes, desperate to get her naked and writhing under him. Equally as ardent, she threw her purse and sweater down and began divesting him of his clothes. She even carelessly (uncharacteristically) dropped her glasses onto their pile of clothes without a second thought.

The first time their flesh joined, Draco bent her over the edge of the bed, pulling her up on her tiptoes and securing her arse high for deep penetration. The crisp, cool sheets she'd left only that morning once again rubbed against her breasts erotically, leaving a trail of goose bumps along her arms and legs. With little foreplay other than to feel her drenched lips ready and willing, Malfoy slammed into Hermione brutally from behind, sinking in to the hilt, causing her back to arch and delicious, elysian shocks to rocket through her violently. There were no coherent, sugary words between them, as they fucked like rabid animals, both too busy urging each other on with heavy, baited gasps of pleasure until finally they shouted their shared release to the high-vaulted ceiling.

Panting heavily in the subsequent glow, Draco took thirty seconds to regain his control before he flipped her onto her back, scooting her into the center of the bed and plunged back into her swollen, grasping pussy, spreading her legs wide with his arms under her thighs, opening her up to his hot stare as he speared her over and over again, his hips pistoning in and out at a rough pace, his face a dark mask of pent-up need. Hermione wailed at the hedonistic gratification he evocatively enticed, desperate for another release soon, her clit a bundle of fiery nerves, screaming for satiation. "Draco, _please_…" she pleaded, her heart smashing against her ribs, "I _need_ you." It seemed such a silly thing to say, given that he was fulfilling her wishes physically, but Hermione recognized the hidden meaning behind her own words: she needed this beautiful, infuriating, amazing, utterly brilliant wizard to fill the gaping, abysmal hole that had opened up in her soul when Ron had torn their love out of her so callously years ago. She needed him to mend her bloodied heart.

She prayed that giving such trust away wouldn't be a mistake, determined to fulfill her promise to Malfoy and give them an honest chance.

In strange accord and understanding, Draco eased up on the pounding he was giving her, clearly sensing her need for a more loving union. Letting her legs go, her skillful paramour smoothed up her body, placing kisses upon both nipples, her jaw, her cheek, and finally fastening on her lips in a suckling, wet posture of adoring possessiveness. "Put your hands on me and don't let go, sweetheart," he murmured in between licks, slowing their rhythm down, taking his time sliding between her legs now with long, thick strokes. "Don't let go."

Wrapping her arms about his neck, Hermione submitted to his need without hesitation. Draco's mouth buried itself against her neck once again and this time, when he bit down above her scored flesh, hungry ripples of unadulterated lust radiated down her limbs, sinking into her spine, flowing like burning oil over her womb. She exhaled a sigh of deep, pleasurable surrender. Obviously pleased with her capitulation, Malfoy answered with another low vibration that shot straight into her core, directly to where they were so intimately connected. They came instantly and simultaneously in a blinding flash of combustible breath, squeezing tightly around each other, and once more, Hermione's magical shields easily fell apart.

With riotous, fierce pulsations reverberating against her magic, she felt her sweet lover's heart beating in time with her own, and magic sparked feral and wild in a desperate, reckless dance between them. The aftermath of their climax was as shattering as the pinnacle itself, bringing Hermione to tears again. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," she apologized in a whisper as soon as the feeling released her and she was able to restore her mental safeguards once again, uncomfortable with such blatant weakness.

Draco shushed her, gently pushing sweaty hair back from her damp brow, kissing her tenderly, speaking soft words of soothing comfort. "It's okay, Hermione. Just relax. Everything's all right. I've got you."

Lying weakly in Draco's arms, Hermione succumbed again to the queer exhaustion that shagging senseless brought on. "Why am I always so tired after?" she whimpered, having trouble keeping her eyelids open. She rubbed at her face.

"You've had a long day filled with fun and adventure, just like you wanted," Draco smiled against her cheek. "And a lot of alcohol to boot." He kissed her cheek, feathering his knuckles over her jaw. "Sleep now and we'll get into more mischief tomorrow, Granger."

Suppressing a yawn, Hermione snuggled deeper against his overheated chest, loving the sensation of him still deeply connected inside. "I'm holding you to your promise, Malfoy, to make this an unforgettable holiday."

Before sleep darkened her thoughts, she had just enough cognizance to hear Draco sigh in resignation. "Unforgettable. Yeah, you could say that. There's certainly no backing out for either of us now."

* * *

**_TO BE CONTINUED..._**

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTES:**

**For the record, yes, all of the Muggle locations (hotels, restaurants, tourist sites, street names & locations, etc.) and menu items (if I haven't eaten it myself from these places while on holiday, I've gone online to check their menu selections) mentioned in this fanfic exist in real life. Maps are accurate as well (i.e. which streets intersect, for instance). I've picked things and places that might be interesting to you should you ever find your way to these locations (they are my recommendations, in other words). Let me know if you ever visit these locales or tried these dishes. Would love to hear your thoughts!**

_**En dishabille**_** = French for "under dressed" or "undressed."**

_**Fromages**_** = French for "cheese."**

**I really recommend you checking out the Trance tunes I mentioned in this chapter, if you like such music. They are both fun choices, and the lyrics match the scene nicely. They were:**

_**"Venus" by Jan Johnston**_

_I'll be your slave,  
So ravishing,  
I love you!  
I've abandoned my senses...  
Here, I am yours._

_In my life now,_  
_Earth and fire, water and... y__ou._

_My venus sun,_  
_To your sun afire!_  
_Touch me when you're here._  
_I will feed your fire!_

_My venus sun,_  
_To your sun afire!_  
_Everything you need._  
_I will feed your fire!_

_I was meant to be your lover._

_**"Ecstasy" by ATB**_

_Have you ever noticed,  
That I'm not acting as I used to do before?  
Have you ever wondered,  
Why I always keep on coming back for more? _

_What have you done to me,  
I'll never be the same, I'll tell you for sure. _

_You really are my ecstasy,  
My real life fantasy. _

_Not that I'm complaining,  
A more beautiful vision - I have never seen.  
If you don't mind me saying,  
A lifelong ambition to fulfill my dream. _

_What have you done to me,  
I'll never be the same I'll tell you for sure _

_You really are my ecstasy,  
My real life fantasy._

_You really are my ecstasy (There can be no other while we still have each other),  
My real life fantasy (There can be no other while we still have each other). _


	4. Chapter 4: Seeing Stars

**_CHAPTER FOUR: Seeing Stars_**

**_June 4, 2004 (Friday)_**

After a delicious wake-up the next morning – was it really only Friday? - filled with warm kisses and sweet touches, Hermione returned to her hotel room to check out, agreeing to meet up with Draco at their favorite café spot within two hours. They were going to play around Paris for one more day, then stay at his chateaux in Libourne overnight (so she wouldn't have to keep paying for a hotel room in Paris), and tomorrow, he agreed to take her to Italy, to a nice villa in Positano, just south of Napolia and to the west of Salerno on the Amalfi Coast. He promised her that once there, she would see sunsets over a brilliant azure ocean, enjoy a private cove for swimming, have luxury villa accommodations with a master chef in the kitchen, receive a relaxing massage with scented oils, and could indulge in hot, wet sex at any opportunity she desired. She intended on holding Malfoy to all of it, and then some.

Humming happily to herself down the streets as she strolled, she approached the rendezvous point, and easily caught the back of her lover's unique platinum-blonde head sitting at the same table they'd previously met twice before. To her surprise, a very attractive brunette wearing a pair of very dark, celebrity-styled Christian Dior sunglasses was sitting across from him, and the two were deep in conversation. The stunningly gorgeous, twenty-something woman was dressed in a well-tailored double-breasted, pagoda-styled shoulder matching jacket pant suit in camel beige with a smart pair of very expensive, snow white Salvatore Ferragamo pumps (oh, how the fashion-conscious Ginny would drool to own such a femininely flattering, business sharp outfit!... and come to think of it, so would she). Hermione slowed to a stop well outside of their sphere of privacy and watched for a good minute, trying to make up her mind as to whether it would be appropriate or not to interject herself into their conversation.

The body language between Draco and his guest seemed perfectly harmless, on the more serious side even. Perhaps their meeting was in regards to his company, then – investments or banking advice, solicitor's counsel, a management power brunch, or an outside consultant interview? The young woman could easily pass for any such position (the expense of her outfit gave her away as being more than just a common salary worker, and the Bond Street executive briefcase decked out in rich dragon-hide resting at her petite crossed ankles, abutting the chair legs, was also a big clue that this Doris was someone important and high-ranking). Then again, she also might be from one of the various Ministry Law Offices on the continent (although she wasn't wearing any indicator – robes or a badge), or she could just as easily be a news reporter for some society witch rag (although there didn't appear to be a notepad or Quick Quotes Quill anywhere about, she noted).

Interrupting a business meeting didn't sit well with Hermione. Having worked in M.L.E. for the last six years, grinding her way up the ladder of success (having started out as an arbitrator for Magical Creature's rights), she knew that _any_ interruption of negotiations could tip the momentum of a discussion, altering the political mood and feel. She'd hated it when people had disrupted her flow as she'd pitched her ideas in the past; it always threw her off and made it difficult to recapture the magic of the moment, so she didn't like doing the same to others, if it could be helped.

Checking her Muggle wristwatch to see if there was time for a walk around the block, she realized with a start that she had arrived on scene more than fifty minutes early! That made up her mind for her; she would leave Draco to conclude his business and return on time in a bit.

As she turned to walk back the way she came, out of the corner of her eye, she caught movement: the brunette had placed one delicate, well-manicured hand on Draco's forearm and rubbed back and forth in a rather intimate manner, as if she knew him a little _too _personally. Hermione stopped on a knut, all of her attention now riveted to that small, pale skin massaging Malfoy's light blue, silken sleeve. She waited a ten count for him to react, to pull his arm away or indicate in some manner that he was unreceptive to the unwanted touch, but he didn't. In fact, he seemed completely relaxed with this other woman's caress upon his person.

Had she been a lover of his, too? Worse, was she still? Maybe, Hermione thought, she wasn't Draco's only interest at the moment. They hadn't actually spoken of such things in their short time together, nor precisely made any sort of commitment to exclusivity; she'd just been taking it on face value that she was, currently, the only woman sharing his bed. What if that wasn't the case, though? A sudden, sick twisting in her stomach simultaneously matched the one in her chest, causing her to wrap her arms about herself protectively even as her breath caught as a lump in her throat. Against her will, she was unexpectedly one large bundle of jealous, seething pain. The hurt was not just emotional, but manifested itself physically, too, making her break out in a cold sweat.

Before she could blink, Draco was on his feet, the other woman's arm forcibly pushed from him as he took in his surroundings and the nearby crowd anxiously, searching for something. He turned slowly in an arc as if narrowing the angle down, and froze when his gaze finally connected with hers across the three or so meters separating them.

It was an awkward half a minute, as neither spoke, neither moved. His emotions were carefully hidden beneath those impassive, grey eyes. Her heart in her throat, Hermione marveled how this moment felt just like the first time she'd caught Ron cheating; that _knowing_ of what the other had seen slicing between them, only in Draco's face, there was no guilt. The pain intensified at the comparison.

He broke the stalemate first and took a step towards her. Instinctually, with no thought to the repercussions, she took a step back in response. Both of them paused for a few seconds, watching the other warily, before she cautiously took another slow step back, feeling a creeping kind of suffocation taking over. Who was that woman? Why did Draco let her touch him? And why did it bother her _so very much_ – to the point where actual tears prickled her vision? It wasn't like she was his girlfriend or anything. He hadn't offered for her in such a manner - not that she would say 'no' if he did. But _why?_

Malfoy's eyes narrowed in contemplation as he stepped forward again, hand outstretched. He didn't say anything, merely watched, waited, palm up, fingers outstretched – totally open. It was just like the other day, in this exact spot - he was silently asking her to trust him, to give him a chance to explain things to her. He was pleading with her in the only way his pride would allow that she not run from him.

After everything Ron had done to her, Hermione had lost faith in men. Coupled with the fact that Draco's reputation preceded him loud and clear… How could she trust anyone again with her emotional well-being? How could she trust _him_, especially after their past history? Why hadn't she considered any of this before today, preferably before she'd let him seduce her that afternoon in her hotel room?

"_I don't care about that blood purity shite anymore. I learned my lesson from the war… Granger, you've always fascinated me, even when you made me angry enough to curse or hex you… I only hated you because I knew I couldn't have you… I like what's going on between us too much to walk away without giving it a chance. Don't you?"_

His voice was a ghost in her mind, haunting her with memories of their last few days together.

Why was she dredging up doubts? She'd already resolved to leave the past aside the other day, because she knew that people weren't necessarily doomed to become awful in adulthood simply because they'd been rotten as kids (or vice-versa, as she'd discovered during her divorce proceedings when the Patil twins - girls she'd considered herself on good terms with - had written some pretty nasty, completely untrue insinuations for their tabloid paper regarding her relationship with Ron's older brothers). No, it simply wasn't fair to hold someone's childhood against them, especially if they were trying to turn over a new leaf and begin again. She knew _she_ wasn't exactly the same as she'd been back at Hogwarts, and Draco had very obviously changed over the last six years as well. They were different people now that they'd matured and settled down some, she reminded herself, and they were both starting over in their own ways.

He'd asked her sincerely to give them a try. She'd promised them both that she would make an honest effort of that request – and she knew that began by giving the other person the opportunity to explain things before jumping off the deep end and inventing scenarios that may or may not hold any truth. There might be, after all, a perfectly logical, rational explanation for everything she'd just witnessed. She hoped, anyway.

With a shuddering breath, her resolve in place, Hermione crossed the distance between them and placed her hand in Malfoy's, shaking like a Snitch in a hurricane. She hadn't met his eyes, though, still a little shy. It had taken a lot of her courage to just get this far.

Draco's free hand slowly moved towards her jaw, cupped it and with a little applied pressure, managed to tilt her face up. "Look at me," he murmured, moving his body in and aligning them perfectly. "Please, Hermione."

Forcing herself to meet his request, their gazes connected and she was suddenly drowning in interminable molten silver. Gently, hesitantly, his magical aura caressed hers, making her breath catch and her heart flutter. Smoothing across her skin, their lips connected in a tremulous kiss that was soft and filled with promise.

"Thank you," he whispered so light as to almost not be heard as he pulled away. "For your trust."

Inside the cage of her ribs, Hermione's blood-pumping organ threatened to punch its way out as it began slamming against her skin, nearly choking her with the force. She exhaled slowly and nodded, trying to regain some semblance of control. He led her back to the table, offered her his vacant seat and commandeered a chair from nearby, scooting it to her right and sitting down so that their outer thighs touched. He took her hand in his, entwining their fingers as a means to reassure her.

Across the small café table, the brunette was coolly watching them behind those dark glasses. Hermione waited for an introduction. It came, surprisingly, from the woman herself.

"I never thought it would be you, Granger," a familiar voice sighed in resignation. "When Drake told me, I thought he was pulling one over on me, but now I see…" She turned her head slightly to Malfoy. "All right, all right, I _get_ it."

Hermione's head swam as she connected the voice with her internal database of memories. "Pansy? Pansy Parkinson?"

The woman she hadn't seen since Sixth Year (as Pansy had never returned to Hogwarts to complete her NEWTs training after the war), smirked and removed her glasses. Brilliant green eyes with a wealth of worldly knowledge trained on her. "In the flesh."

The pug-face had matured over the years, the bones of her cheeks elongating as Pansy lost her baby fat, making her into a rather striking figure. Her once screeching, grating voice had mellowed in a husky-sultry way that had Hermione thinking that the tone was probably perfect for a phone sex operator. In a phrase, she wasn't model-beautiful, but she was definitely a very handsome woman.

Blinking in confusion, Hermione looked to Draco first for some sort of cue, then back at Parkinson when none was forthcoming. She opened her mouth and out tumbled the first thing to cross her mind. "You've slept together."

The woman's smirk was positively wicked. "Once upon a time, a long time ago," she teased, and held up her left hand, where a huge diamond-platinum ring shone brilliantly. "I'm married now. It's Zabini, by the way, not Parkinson."

"Oh. Congratulations." That sounded lame even to her ears, but all of this was coming too fast to process for Hermione's overtaxed mind. Lack of sleep for days, too much sex, being this close to Draco, coming down from a fit of jealousy… it was a little much, especially on an empty stomach. She turned to the waitress and flagged her down with a tiny wave. The woman came over, but had eyes only for Draco; she was sizing him up like a piece of prime steak. Hermione checked a growl. "Excuse me, but I'd like a cup of coffee and the house pastry du jour, _if you please_." She said the last a little huffily, but still restrained enough to sound civil.

As the waitress ran off to fill the order, Pansy chuckled. "So polite."

Even though she'd promised herself not to allow the past to prejudice her, the woman's tone and the awkwardness of the situation made Hermione's hackles rise. "Muggle or wizard, good manners should know no distinction."

Jade eyes glinted mischievously and the smile across the table twitched, as if Pansy were trying to hold back her amusement. "She hasn't changed all _that_ much, Drake."

Hermione felt his stare before she turned her head to face him head-on, just waiting for him to say the wrong thing.

"In some ways, no. In others, _definitely_ yes."

He was holding back his own mirth, she noted. Arching an eyebrow at him was what did him in; Draco broke out into low chuckles, the sound of which made Hermione's body tighten with need in an instant. She removed her hand from his, using the excuse of the coffee's arrival to put some distance between them. One thing hadn't changed about her and that was that she didn't like being the brunt of someone's joke.

"You're a total cad," she growled at the man by her side. "I don't know why I tolerate you. I'm cutting you off if you keep picking on me."

The two former Slytherins erupted into laughter, but she ignored them, taking a bite of her pastry and not caring how rude it may be, considering her two tablemates had no food or drink before them. She chased the mouthful down with a big gulp of her black-as-midnight espresso, letting out a contented sigh as it all smoothed down her throat. Starchy, sugary food and a high-octane caffeine drink – what better way to start the day?

Pansy's voice called her attention back across the table. "Still as stubborn as always, though."

"You've no idea," Draco half-joked.

Her mouth full, Hermione could do nothing polite except "humph" behind her closed lips in response and take another sip.

"I'm getting one," the brunette commented wryly, as she stood, gathering her briefcase.

Hermione glanced at the woman over the rim of her glasses, curious. "Don't leave on my account," she drawled, hoping for quite the opposite, in fact. Pansy had never made her comfortable – had been downright awful to her in school, in fact - and the new, improved model wasn't inspiring any change of heart.

Pansy's smarmy smirk could have rivaled Malfoy's on one of his best days. "Oh, I'm not, I just have to get back home. Blaise is going to laugh himself sick when he finds out about you two." She crossed to Draco and he stood to see her off. "You know my git husband predicted you two getting together three years ago while divining the stars. I told him he was off his grandmum's rocker at the time. Looks like I lost that bet."

Hermione snorted inelegantly. "Divination is a load of horse pucky."

"And yet here you are," Pansy mocked, placing her sun bands back on the bridge of her nose. "The two most unlikely people on the planet, all lovey-dovey."

"Pans," Draco warned. "Enough."

The dark-haired witch took a deep breath and sighed on the exhale. She seemed to be working on composing herself as she looked off into the crowd for a moment. "So, we can expect you both next week then?"

Draco nodded, which caused Hermione to almost spew her coffee all over the counter top. "We'll meet you for breakfast on Tuesday," he confirmed, as Hermione inwardly groaned. They were going to be seeing the Slytherin Bitch Queen and her equally offensive husband during their vacation. Say it wasn't so!

"The villa in Sicily," Pansy reminded him, leaning up on tiptoe to give him a kiss on the cheek (Hermione quelled another small jerk of jealousy in her stomach, taking out her anger on her pastry, devouring it in three short, snapping bites). "You know it's his favorite place this time of the year." She turned to Hermione with obvious effort. "See you then, Grang… er, Hermione. Drake." With that, she walked off towards that same alley nearby that had witnessed many a wizard and witch's Apparitions over the centuries. There was a small crack, like a metal garbage bin lid hitting the pavement, but no one seemed to even notice or care as it was conveniently just more of the same background noise to be found in big cities.

Draco resumed his seat next to her, resting his arm on the back of her chair and pulling at one of her loose curls. Hermione was trying very hard to reign in her temper. "Explain," she bit out, sipping her drink loudly, fighting hard to keep her toe from tapping in annoyance.

Her lover took a moment to mentally compose his story, or so she assumed. Needless to say, she was quite taken aback when she felt his lips curving seductively against her ear, his breath warm and enticing as it spilled over her neck. His magic flowed outward, entrapping her aura, caressing it. "Put the cup down."

Hermione's hands began shaking so badly that she had no choice but to obey or be sloshed by the contents of her drink. The cup hit the saucer with a loud clinking noise. She swallowed heavily and opened her mouth to protest his actions, when his finger on her lips silenced her.

"There's absolutely nothing between Pansy and I," he firmly stated. "We slept together a few times in Fourth and Fifth Year, and yes, she was my first, because I know you're going to ask. It was just experimenting. We haven't touched each other like that since." He turned her chin to look at him. "She's married now to one of my best friends, and they're completely in love, and _I'm with you_. And no, Granger, I'm not interested in looking at other women. I'm not sleeping with anyone but you. I told you that I want to try with you and see where it leads us. That means I'm committed. I thought I made that clear the other day."

Unexpectedly, and to her horror, tears flooded her eyes again. "Why me?" It was her low self-esteem talking, she knew – boy, Ron had really done a number on her, hadn't he? - but the words had simply come unbidden to her lips.

Draco's thumb rubbed lightly over her mouth, and his eyes were drawn to watch. Hermione was fixated firmly on his whole face though, looking for any signs of doubt. There was only lust and something deeper, indefinable in those platinum depths that made her shiver in a good way. "Because I like the fact that you're jealous of the waitress who flirts with me every time we come here," he grinned ridiculously, teasing. "It shows me how much you desire me."

Hermione bristled like a porcupine at the revelation that Draco was much more perceptive of her than she'd suspected. Before she could mount a protest to save her ego, however, he continued relentlessly making his case for why he'd chosen her. "And because no one's ever given me a pornographic art book before." He leaned in, pressing his lips to her pulse and murmured against her sensitive skin with a wide smirk. "I liked that you're trying to culture me at the same time as make me uncivilized."

She tried to argue that the book wasn't intended to do any such thing, but his lips trailed kisses down the column of her neck, distracting her momentarily, allowing him to continue. "And because you bought me a charm to enhance sex between us without even realizing you'd done so."

She jerked away, this time _intending_ on telling him that he was mistaken, but in anticipation of the move, he nipped her over his favorite spot at her neck very lightly, causing her to flush with desire in an instant, all thoughts of disagreement flying out the window, leaving her little more than smooth molding clay in his expert hands. "The snake figure was enchanted with a lust spell, sweetheart," he purred as he continued licking and nipping her throat. "I knew it the second I touched it… and I also knew you _didn't _know that, which is what makes it the best gift _ever_." He licked a long trail up to her earlobe, grabbing it between his front teeth and biting very gently. "It meant you were already in-tune with the figurine's intentions. It didn't influence you. Your want for me is real and your own, not magically enhanced by… outside forces."

He smoothed around her jaw and chin, placing a soft kiss on her lips – barely a touch of flesh, his demeanor much more serious now, his smile tucking itself away. "There's more, though. More reasons why I want to be with you." He held her gaze earnestly. "You took my hand today. You didn't run, when I could tell that everything inside of you wanted to. You trusted this… _us_… enough to keep trying." He placed his forehead on hers and rubbed his nose against her cheek, pausing for a moment, clearly wanting to say more. "The real cherry on top though, baby, is that your scent drives me _fucking wild_," he breathed out a sigh of longing, and she could tell this wasn't really what he'd wanted to say, but it was a good enough diversion. Honestly, she was a little afraid of what he might have actually meant to confess, and thought this was better - for now.

Heedless of the crowd on the other side of the café wall, or of the waitress hovering in the background, or of the small gatherings of tourists sitting off to their left and behind at the other tables, Draco grabbed her hand and pressed it against the front of his trousers. He rubbed her tiny fingers over his very prominent erection and groaned. "You do this to me, Granger. I've never wanted anyone like this before - not with this much intensity."

Her heart was slamming in her throat suddenly, her insides quivering, her thighs damping with need. "I don't understand how that could be. You've got beautiful women throwing themselves at you all the time."

He continued to nuzzle, the corner of his lips touching hers, then drawing away. "I want _you_. Right now." His aura wrapped around hers again, blanketing her in a haze of excitement. "I _have_ to have you again. Please say 'yes,' princess."

Gods knew she wanted him, too. With a nod, she drew them to their feet, while he threw some Euros on the table, and once more, they made for the alleyway to Apparate to his chateaux, where he proceeded to make delicious love to her tenderly, sweetly, exhaustively. As she slumbered lightly in Malfoy's arms afterward, she drowsily marveled at the irrefutable fact that this beautiful, intelligent, charming wizard _really_ liked her… as much as she now was willing to admit she liked him. This clearly wasn't just a fling for either of them. He'd made that clear not ten minutes before, as he'd melded them together with slow, deep, gentle thrusts, latched onto her neck once more possessively, one hand caressing her cheek, waiting for her to find her pleasure before succumbing to his own.

It was the irony of the decade, she thought: the boy who had made her miserable for most of her childhood was now her full-time lover… and by Merlin, was he good at it!

X~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~X

That evening, they returned to Paris for late dining at the finest and most expensive restaurant in the city: _Alain Ducasse au Plaza Athénée_, known to cater to both Muggle and Wizarding-kind. They ate like a King and Queen, trying out the vegetables and fruits cooked in spicy tomato marmalade, steamed langoustines, duck liver and black truffle puff pastries, a selection of refined cheeses and for dessert shared a lemon and bergamot citrus ice cream. They sipped on the finest white and red wines in the world between courses, talking and laughing and sharing, and along with their dessert, they finished off a bottle of 1959 Dom Pérignon Moët & Chandon Champagne that cost a whole month's of Hermione's regular salary alone. Draco paid for it all, insisting that this was a second date and at his invitation. Hermione allowed herself ten seconds worth of prideful indignation before realizing that there was no way she could afford to pay the 1,275 galleon price tag for their evening's indulgence (her date didn't even blink an eye). Besides, it seemed to make him happy, and he was the one who had insisted on the restaurant.

As they exited the fine dining establishment onto Avenue Montaigne, Draco stopped and rounded on her suddenly, interrupting the usual Friday night flow of pedestrian traffic around them. "It's eleven now. Are you tired?"

Hermione shook her head. "I took a nap this afternoon, you forgot," she teased, enjoying the feel of his fingers intimately stroking the inside of her palm.

"I've been wanting to show you something really spectacular since the day I came back into town, and now seems the perfect chance, since it's our last night in Paris," he offered with a boyish grin. "You up for it, sweetheart?"

The endearment made Hermione's stomach clench with need every time he used it. "A surprise? Always!" she sassed back and his grin widened. Gripping her hand tightly in his, he turned and took off back up the sidewalk at a slow jog, pulling her along behind him. She whooped and giggled as he led them through the thinning throngs of people and across the street. They passed by shops for Prada, Bottega Veneta France, and Manoush, and ducked into a less busy, dimmer courtyard between buildings. Grabbing her up close, he pulled his wand. "Hold tight, baby," he whispered in her ear and Hermione slammed shut her eyes, and threw her arms about his neck tightly, knowing what was coming next.

That queer fish-hook pull behind her navel always made her slightly off-balance, but thankfully, it lasted only a few seconds after the Side-Along Apparation completed. She blinked to find them outside, on some sort of observation deck, very high in the sky. Below, the city lights lit up the night, highlighting the carpet of concrete, glass, stone, and metal structures all about them in reds, whites, and blues primarily (no doubt to reflect the French national flag's color schema). Instantly, she guessed where they were, as it was the tallest structure in Paris.

"The Eiffel Tower."

Draco nodded. "Third floor deck. Usually muggles don't come up here at this time of the night because it's too cold." He waved a warming charm over them, then replaced his wand inside his interior jacket pocket. "Good thing we don't have to worry about that."

Hermione hummed in approval. Oh, how she loved magic and being a witch!

He turned her about slowly. "There's the Palais de Chaillot, also known as the Trocadero," he pointed past her face, snuggling up behind her, wrapping his free arm around her waist, offering her security and extra heat. He went on to tell her the building's cultural significance and the details of the museum's architectural design. "It's an intentional slight against the commons, you know," he smirked and shook his head. "The liberal rebels who wanted to depose the Spanish monarchy lost the Battle of Trocadero on the Iberian Peninsula to the French invading forces led by Louis-Antoine, the Duke of Angoulême, who was ever after referred to as the 'Prince of Trocadero.' This monument was named here in Paris, his home, to remind the world of the power of royalty – of purebloods, in essence - over the common man."

Hermione looked over her shoulder at him quickly in shock. "I thought none of that mattered to you anymore," she hesitantly inquired, feeling her heart pick up in trepidation.

He shrugged. "It doesn't. I only mentioned it because it seems we wizards have more than a thing or two in common with muggles, insofar as prejudice is concerned."

She considered that, phrasing her thoughts carefully. "Hubris is a part of human nature in general. No one's immune from selfish tendencies or arrogance."

He was quiet for a bit, holding her closer, wrapping his arms about her waist and resting his cheek against her hair. "No, no one is, are they?" It was murmured quietly, almost as an afterthought and stood as an obvious rhetorical question which did not require an answer, as the answer was obvious to both parties.

"Show me the rest," she requested, wanting to drag them away from possible bad memories or mood spoiler conversations. "I want the grand tour, _Monsieur_!"

Pressing a kiss to her temple, Draco's arms slipped from her waist, but his hand reached out for hers. They walked palms clasped together loosely and relaxed around the deck all the way to the opposite end, Draco pointing out important landmarks as they went. "Over there is the Parc du Champs de Mars, a tribute to the Roman God of War. The grounds were once used by the French military for practice marching and drilling." He explained the area's historical significance, including its gruesome past as a place for public executions. Hermione was fascinated by it all; she felt like a round-eyed child back in primary school, learning new things about a foreign land (this _was_ her first trip to the continent, after all). Draco obviously spent a lot of time in Paris; he seemed to love this city, his silver gaze radiating affection as he spoke about the sights grandly spread out below them.

When they rounded the tower and ended up back where they began, the last call for the Tower to close was announced over the P.A. system. "We should go, I suppose," Hermione stated with a regretful sigh, but her date had other plans firmly in mind. He waited for the last of the tourists to board the elevator before waving his wand over the area, murmuring something under his breath. "What did you do?" she whispered in a hiss, not wanting to disturb the sudden silence around them.

"Just wait," he whispered back, and pulled her off to the side, against the wall. Wait they did - for another fifteen minutes, she sweating bullets as the guards came into view for their final sweep of the night. They were passed by without a glance, and Hermione knew then that he'd cast a Disillusionment Charm upon them. She wondered what he was up to, while the guards signaled the all-clear into their walkie-talkies and left. The interior lights of the tower shut off, and it was only the exterior coming through the windows that provided them any ability to see. Draco waited a few more minutes, and then waved his arm again, murmuring a string of things, flicking his wrist with a practiced ease.

"There, all set," he breathed out and then grabbed her hand and pulled her into a room marked "EMPLOYEES ONLY" in French, English and various other languages. No alarms went off, and he seemed perfectly comfortable with walking about the place even with the loud echo of their shoes on the flooring.

"_Silencio_ and _Disillusionment_. Smart, but how do you trick the cameras?" she wondered aloud.

Malfoy's grin was as the Cheshire Cat's in Alice's wonderful adventure – all teeth and entirely too smug for one's own good. "A charm I made up called _Aboculus_. It blurs a person's form to outsiders, for privacy. When paired with a Disillusionment Charm, it renders a person completely unseen, like an Invisibility Cloak."

Hermione was floored. "You… make up your own spells?" Holy Anatolie! Such a level of skill was the mark of a Very Great Wizard, as few could actually accomplish the feat. She had invented only two on her own in all the years she'd been working diligently on solving some of her more difficult problems: the "Sneak" curse that she'd worked up for Dumbledore's Army back in Fifth Year, and a replicating spell ("_Geminus Effingo_") that could create exact copies of text instantly, like a photocopier (she'd used it often to cut down on library research work, especially books that weren't allowed to be removed from the premises and were for reference only). Tinkering with the actual laws of physics, though – the bending of light to create an illusion of null space, like what Draco had succeeded in doing - wasn't something she could even contemplate, as it would require a better knowledge of science than even she had under her belt. "That's… wow, that's amazing."

Draco grinned smugly, and led her up a small, metal helix stair to an open observation deck that contained a large telescopic device imbedded into the floor, its lens pointed up towards the heavens. "_Aboculus_ is only a visual spell, though. It doesn't work against things that can smell you, like animals, Dementors, Weres, and other… such Beings. There's no magic in the world that can hide a person's scent completely, only mask it temporarily as something else."

Hermione grinned playfully. "Is that why you bought me the perfume then? To hide my smell?"

He stopped them at the telescope and turned to her, his eyes hot with a growing, dark desire. "I bought you the perfume because it enhances your unique scent." Moving in close, he pressed his nose into the bend of her neck and inhaled deeply. "French vanilla and jasmine and night-blooming rose... That's how you smell naturally to me." He continued sniffing her, pressing his face into her skin, licking and nibbling on her neck. "Makes me hard just being in the same room as you."

Enjoying the attentions thoroughly, Hermione gasped as he bit over her pulse, digging her nails into his upper arms at the same time. "What… what did you bring me up here for?"

He bit her lobe gently, and breathed hotly into the shell of her ear. "I'm going to show you the stars, princess."

With a final kiss on her jaw, he pulled away, putting a goodly amount of space between them as he moved over to the telescope and looked into the lens. Feeling bereft and wanting more, Hermione moaned in protest. He chuckled. She riposted by pouting. "You are a _terrible_ tease."

"But you like it, oh-so-much," he arrogantly stated, not looking up.

Wisely, Hermione kept her mouth shut, not wanting to say anything that might incriminate her later, since Draco had proven to have an eidetic memory for conversations. Watching from the sidelines instead, she waited until all of the fiddling with focus and magnification knobs were done. Finally, he called her over to look through the telescope. She peeked into the eye piece. "Is that… Jupiter?" she asked, in awe.

Draco hummed in approval. "Beautiful, isn't it?" He sounded like he was unwrapping a Christmas gift – giddy and excited to be sharing this special view with her. "The University of Manchester was given permission by the city for use of this observation platform for Astrophysics student's demonstrations and projects. Blaise showed this to me earlier this year after getting his License."

Hermione tore her gaze away and looked over her shoulder at him. "Blaise Zabini studied _muggle _science?" Were pigs flying, too, she sarcastically wondered?

One of Malfoy's golden eyebrows arched up in surprise. "His father is an alumni of the same department, so it was practically a sure-thing when he applied."

She shook her head. "No, I meant that I'm just shocked that one of the poster boys for pureblood segregation went to a _muggle_ school."

Her stunningly handsome date sniffed in amusement. "I told you, most of the pureblood families aren't what they pretend to be. Blaise's muggle-born dad came out of the woodwork just before the Final Battle to take him into hiding."

Hermione's metaphorical jaw on the floor, and she openly gaped at what Draco had just said. "Wait, wait, wait! Let me get this straight: pureblood snob, Blaise Zabini, is in actuality a half-blood with a muggle-born dad, and Pansy Parkinson married him anyway?" She laughed in amazement as her blonde lover nodded mutely. "Have I crossed over into some weird alternate dimension, like a 'Mirror, Mirror' or something?"

Her boyfriend looked confused. "A 'Mirror, Mirror'? What is that, some sort of spell?"

"No, it's _Star Trek_," Hermione explained, adjusting her glasses on the bridge of her nose. "My dad used to watch syndicated re-runs on the telly when I was really little." Seeing his continued blank expression, she tried to explain it in fifty words or less. "It's a muggle television show. In one episode called, 'Mirror, Mirror,' the exploration crew accidentally ends up transported – a type of technological Apparition - to an alternate reality where everyone is acting the exact opposite of how they do normally. That's sort of how life feels right now to me."

With a shake of his head, Malfoy stroked one finger down her cheek. "Sometimes, Granger, I wonder if you're not a little touched in the head." He cupped her jaw and stared at her seriously. "Those muggle television shows aren't real, sweetheart. They're all make-believe entertainment."

She couldn't decide if she wanted to hit him or giggle at such an outrageous proclamation, said in such a sober manner. Did he honestly think _she_ didn't know that, given her upbringing? Had he forgotten who she was?

_I give up_, she sighed to herself. Instead of trying to correct Draco's misunderstanding, she simply patted his hand. "Never mind, dear," she smiled humorlessly and turned back to star gazing, muttering under her breath about thick-witted wizards and fiddling with her glasses again. "So, this telescope must be fitted with filters to sift out high bands of the visible spectrum, otherwise the city lights would interfere with this clear and crisp an image, I assume," she commented, changing the topic. Honestly, she could care less about Blaise _frumping_ Zabini.

Without proper warning, Hermione felt her boyfriend's roaming hand stroking over her arse. "I love it when you talk smart, you know," he joked, fondling her backside lasciviously, following the curves in slow, molding caresses, making her temperature jump ten degrees. "Yes, it does. It's also got filters to nullify the convection from temperature gradients caused by the heat of the city in the atmosphere." He suddenly pressed his erection – as hard as an iron bar, hidden behind his trousers - in between the divide of her cheeks and began rubbing up and down.

Hermione tried to play it coy, ignoring the slippery wetness gathering between her legs, liking this new game he had invented on the fly. "Uh-huh. I see. That's why the red spot – the planet's persistent anti-cyclonic storm – is so clear. It's just coming around the rotation now." Her silk-chiffon dress was being dragged slowly upwards, the soft, light pink fabric brushing against the back of her thighs as it moved. She bit her lip to keep a moan from escaping, continuing to play the game. "Its cloud formation bands are amazingly distinct. I'm shocked to see such detail." The skirt portion of her outfit was now bunched around her waist, her white, lacy thong exposed to Draco's sight. A deep groan was dragged from him, even as his warm fingers began smoothing the skin, slipping under the thong to follow its trail to her creamy opening, which was slick and ready for him. He rimmed the entrance to her channel teasingly, trying to get a reaction out of her, she knew. Hermione grit her teeth. "I wonder… what details you can… see… of the moon… through this thing." She was panting by the time she'd finished that sentence, as his fingertip tickled her clit. "Gods almighty, Malfoy, just put me out of my misery already!"

A dark, sensual chuckle purred across the back of her neck as he leaned in. "Do you want me, Hermione?"

Legs trembling now, she gripped the tripod of the telescope, which was thankfully bolted to the floor and sturdy enough to hold her weight. "You know I do," she hissed as electricity shot up her spine. "Don't tease."

His tongue licked along her shoulder, right over his favorite spot, right as his hands moved together around the front of her slip-knickers and darted downward, covering her mound, pushing up with the heel of one palm against her sensitive slit. "Do you accept that this feeling between us is a good thing, Granger?" he asked placing tender nips over that area that made her writhe. "Do you accept me as your lover finally, and not just as some one-off holiday fling?"

Wasn't that just what she was thinking about earlier today? It was strange really that they were becoming more and more in-tune as the days drifted by. "Yes," she sighed, tilting her head to give him full access.

"You have to say it," he teased, lapping over the bruised area delicately. "I want to hear you say, 'I accept you as my lover, Draco Malfoy.'"

Circe, Cliodna and Godric, she'd say anything if he would just stroke her a little harder right _there_. "I… I accept you as my lover, Draco Malfoy," she cried out as he rolled two fingers over her clit. "I. Accept. You. All right?"

"Freely?" he asked, pulling his fingers off of her, poised and waiting. "Would you still want me if we stopped right now? Not just for the sex, but for me? For the man I am today?"

"Merlin's soul, Malfoy, yes, okay?" she huffed in sexual frustration, wanting him to return to their business without any more delay. "_Yes_, I want you freely as my lover. I accept you, how you've changed, and I believe what you said to me today. All of it."

He was quiet for a moment. "Good," he rumbled, then bent down to her neck and pressed his mouth over his mark, biting down hard. At the same moment, he speared her with his fingers, the pad of his thumb stroking her nub of flesh at the top of her vulva, causing her to orgasm _hard_. She definitely saw stars then, just as he'd promised. He held her back against him as she trembled, lifting his mouth off of her sore flesh. "Like that?" he breathed into her ear. "Want more?"

Feeling like one prodigious collection of hyper-aware nerves, all Hermione could do was whimper in pleading and nod.

"Good," he seductively whispered again as he turned her to capture her lips in a searing kiss that rocked her soul. He tasted like the hot sizzle in the air just before lightning struck – wild, electric, coppery metallic. Something about that fact buzzed the back of her brain, but before she could delve deeper for answers, he'd dragged her down to the ancient, oak flooring, removed their clothes and her glasses in haste, and laid her out like a banquet, proceeding to feast upon her with a naughty mouth and sinful hands. She came twice, once when he bit her between the thighs, nipping her clit so hard that it stung, the second time when he lathed away the hurt, expertly using his tongue to bring her to the very heights of bliss again. He moved up her body even as her lower lips continued to quiver, her insides still rippling with rolling waves of pleasure from this last climax, and mounted her, pressing his penis in between her soaking folds and rubbing gently up and down. "I accept you, too, Hermione Granger. Freely. All of you, just as you are," he murmured against her lips, his pale skin and silvery eyes practically glowing in the moonlight shining down upon them through the tall, picture windows. "_Finally_, I accept you."

In the next breath, he entered her and it was a hard, determined, and possessive taking, so unlike earlier this afternoon. He latched onto her left nipple immediately, pulling it into his mouth with a hard suck that was both pleasure and pain, refusing to let go as he took her deep and a little rough, slamming his body into hers in a sweaty, fast coupling that left her heart completely vulnerable, her lungs begging for air, and her throat sore from screaming loudly and lustily in ecstasy. His magical aura completely overwhelmed her as they orgasmed together, opening her up, forcing her mental shields to drop again and once more, that indeterminable need for each other rose up between them, touching her heart. It was a frightening and beautiful few moments, leaving Hermione emotionally exposed. Tears of joy co-mingling with fear slid down her cheeks once more.

In the rush of feelings after, Draco shushed her, kissed her, soothed her as he always did, holding her close to his pounding chest that was damp from perspiration. "Did you see the stars as I promised, princess?" he playfully teased, licking her lips like a cat with cream, raining light kisses down upon them.

With a tremulous smile, Hermione reached up and very gently placed her fingertips on his cheek. "Yes. I even touched them."

* * *

**_TO BE CONTINUED…_**

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTES:**

**Any guesses as to what's _really_ going on now, dear readers? I'll let your mind consider all the possibilities...**

**Pictures that accompany this fic can be found here: http:/ s905 . photobucket . com / albums / ac260 / RZZMG / Id%20Rather%20Be%20In%20Love/ (remember to remove all spaces before loading that URL).**

**1 galleon = approximately 5 British Pounds according to JKR's calculations. That makes Hermione & Draco's dinner cost 6,375 British Pounds or 7742 Euros or US$9,255.**

**M.L.E. = Magical Law Enforcement**

**_Silencio _****= Charm to silence all sound; JKR's canon spell.**

**_Disillusionment _****= Charm to make a person appear to blend into their surroundings, like a chameleon; JKR's canon spell.**

**_Aboculus _****= Latin for "sightless." A spell I made up for my various fanfics.**

**_Geminus Effingo_**** = Latin for "double copy." A spell I made up for my various fanfics.**

**License = In Europe, a Bachelor's degree is also called a License. The term is interchangeable, and depends upon the school you attend.**

**Cliodna =(pronounced "CLEEV-nah") Celtic Irish goddess of beauty, the eldest daughter of the last Druid of Ireland. She appears on a Chocolate Frog card in JKR's world.**


	5. Chapter 5: Taking The Plunge

_**CHAPTER FIVE: TAKING THE PLUNGE**_

_**June 5, 2004 (Saturday)**_

The next morning, with the sun shining brightly through the windows of the bedroom, Hermione awoke snuggled up against Draco's chest, both of them nude again. His arms were splayed out to either side openly as he lay on his back, snoring softly, as vulnerable and open as a child. She watched him for a bit, enamored of his beauty, which still seemed as otherworldly now as it had back in school, with his shock of platinum-gold hair that lay perfectly, even in sleep, his long matching eyelashes that glided gently across milky, smooth skin, full lips made for sensual pleasuring, and a body that was toned and solid.

He was, in a word, mesmerizing.

Feeling the urge to be naughty, she woke him with soft, teasing kisses against his throat's pulse and gentle stroking up and down the length of his sleeping, naked cock. He hardened rather quickly, his body reacting to her even in slumber. Damn, that was sexy! Between her legs, her body gushed with warm liquid as soon as she felt him respond to her ministrations.

Arms like steel bands wrapped about her in a blink – _so fast!_ – and her lover smirked, not opening his eyes yet. "Keep that up and I'll give you the good morning of your life, sweetheart."

Hermione's tummy fluttered again at the endearment. He'd been calling her pet names more and more frequently, she noted. Hopefully, that meant his feelings for her were evolving along the same lines as hers were for him. "Actually, I was hoping to give _you_ a wake-up call," she purred against his lips, licking them boldly, her inner succubus coming out to play yet again, stirred into life once more by this incredibly arousing man.

Draco's lashes fluttered and opened to half mast, and once more, she was captured by his expressive, silvery orbs. They gleamed with sultry anticipation. "And how would you do that exactly?" he playfully wondered, his voice lowering sinfully, as if he was daring her to say her heart's desire aloud.

Letting her tongue peak out to lap once over her own lower lip suggestively, she stared right back at him with the same desirous heat. "I was thinking I'd wrap my tongue around your aching, hard cock and this time, taste you fully."

Fire blazed up his cheeks as she spoke, staining the pale skin a reddish-rose Amaranth in color and his lips parted eagerly. One of his hands came up and tenderly brushed stray curls from her cheek. "I'd love for you to do that to me, Hermione."

Her heart pattered and danced madly under her ribs like some virgin's at his use of her first name again, but the temptress was in control at the moment, and she played her part well. Wiggling out of his embrace, she kneeled over him, staring down at him, trying to put into her eyes all of the craving she felt for him. He gazed up at her, mirroring her expression. It was an electric moment, neither one speaking, neither moving, just watching the other with concentrated yearning.

Using his elbows, Draco pulled himself out from under her and up into a half-leaning position up against the bed's wooden headboard. "Come here," bid softly, his right hand reaching out to stroke affectionately across her jaw. "Let me taste your lips properly first."

Crawling the short distance until they were nose to nose, she moved in until her lips rested on his lightly. Opening up, she dove in, pulled gently, sucking at his soft flesh, both tasting and imparting need with each sweetly passionate lunge, over and over giving and taking. He let her assume the lead, following her helplessly, humming in a seductive purr when her tongue darted out to tease his. These were languid, deep kisses, a true sharing, demonstrative in feeling.

Pulling away with a twinge of regret – she could kiss this scrumptious man for hours, she was quite positive - Hermione began kissing down his throat towards the breach where it met his shoulder, following a slow path, all the while, allowing her hand to lightly caress his hip, smoothing up and down towards the outside of his thigh. "You've been very good at loving my body," she commented, licking the salty, hot skin, seeking out his true scent and finding it under the remnants of his cologne – musky, piquant vanilla – and inhaled deeply with a lusty sigh. "It's my turn now to spoil you. I'm going to make you feel _so good_, Draco."

Finding his neck's pulse, she bit down with some small pressure. Her lover gasped in wanton pleasure, his hands plowing through her hair to hold her closer. "Princess… yeah, right there… _oh, yeah_," he encouraged her with a groan as she continued nibbling on his neck and earlobe, hitting just the right spot to turn him on even more.

Slowly, she worked her mouth down his body, lavishing attention on his nipples, biting hard on his left at his persuasion, leaving another imprint of her teeth around it, much to his excited gratification. Even as she moved her lips further down his rock hard abs, he kept lightly touching her new mark, rubbing circles about it, his face alighting with true happiness.

Delighted with his response to her seduction, Hermione endeavored to make this experience as wonderful for him as he had made the last several days exhilarating for her.

When she finally took his member to her mouth, she lapped at the sensitive skin gently at first, cherishing him with her wet tongue, causing his penis to jump as it strained to be fully engulfed by her warm, moist cavern, making him hiss in rapture when she instead continued to worship him up and down his length. "Yes, sweetheart… oh, yeah… so perfect," he murmured with reckless abandon, giving himself over to her fully, riding the increasing pleasure she brought him as she twined about his solid, velvet rod, suckling his crown with light pressure, French kissing it, circling the head, flicking the tiny slit and lapping up his pre-cum eagerly. His fingers entwined in her curls, grabbing hold firmly. "My ruin… _my_ Hermione," he whispered mindlessly, repeatedly in rapture as her right hand stroked him slowly up and down, while her left put slight pressure behind one of his knees, requesting he bend it upwards, guiding it until his ankle was even with her shoulder on the bed. He followed her command with the other leg as well and then let his legs fall apart wide, giving her uninhibited access to all of him. Hermione took full advantage, cupping his heavy, warm sack and gently kneading, licking over the baby soft skin. Her stroking increased in tempo and pressure at the same time.

Draco's liberated cries for her to ease him echoed loudly in the high ceilinged room. "Fuck, stop teasing!" he begged desperately. "Take me all in. Suck me, already!"

With a final kiss to his lower region, she slid back up his thick length and then dipped her mouth over and around him, fitting him perfectly between her lips, pushing down with exquisite, unhurried movement until his cock touched the back of her throat. With equally lingering, deliberate action, she moved back up, sucking hard, allowing her tongue to wiggle against the bottom of his flesh as he glided back out.

"_Bloody hell!_" he shouted in pure ecstasy, tensing up. "I'm so close… just from that… don't stop, Granger… _please_ do that again! Ahhh, baby, _more!_"

She glanced up quickly. With his white-gold head thrown back against the darkly stained wood, his mouth parted as he took deep, heaving breaths, and the long line of his pale throat exposed, he was absolutely beautiful – all that she ever wanted. In that moment, Hermione felt a queer tightness in her chest that had nothing to do with choking for her next breath. Tears prickled her eyes.

Godric help her, but she was crushing hard and crashing fast for Draco Malfoy, wasn't she?

Repeating her mouth's temptations several more times brought her lover quickly. "_Gods, Hermione!_" he bellowed, his hands gripping her head instinctually to keep her immobilized as he reached his climax. When his seed hotly surged into her mouth, flooding her, she swallowed quickly, allowing her tongue to fully taste his salty-lemony flavor, her nose to enjoy the smell of his unique scent, her ears to mark the sounds of his rapturous cries and whimpers with each spurt, her fingertips to memorize the lines of the taut muscles of his inner thighs as they tensed up with each release, and her eyes to open and truly see her wizard in all his glory.

Somehow, she'd known his magical aura would appear as a dark amethyst in color. It swam about him for a few seconds, just riding the edges of his form in the glow of his orgasmic nirvana. It was quite lovely and fitting, she thought.

What she hadn't expected was for the negative photo image of dark, feathered wings spreading wide to either side of him, rising upward from his back, to burn itself into her retinas for a split nanosecond.

She blinked and the image was gone. No wings sprouted from Draco's back. He looked no different from before.

Had that simply been magical backlash of some kind? She'd known it was possible for hallucinations to occur if one became overwhelmed by another's magical essence, so perhaps that's all it had been.

She buried the idea for now, too shook up to delve into it just yet.

Her lover's platinum head slumped forward as he emptied himself finally and she released him from the confines of her mouth. Struggling to regain his lungs, he looked down at her, a boyish grin plastered to his gorgeous features, his face one of surprised cheerfulness.

Resting her cheek against his thigh, looking up, Hermione could feel his blood still racing through his femoral artery. The pulse was strong, vibrant against her skin. She swallowed hard, still tasting his residual sliding down her throat, and turned her eyes away, afraid he'd read the truth of her prevailing feelings too easily. Regaining her knees, she wiped daintily across her lips with two fingers, suddenly unsure of herself, that inner siren retreating back behind the sexually shy, more rational side of her personality. "Did you… enjoy that?" she stupidly asked, knowing he had, but needing to hear it from his own mouth. She kept her eyes firmly on his belly, watching it rise and fall with each inhalation and exhalation. "I wasn't… too rough?"

Draco's low chuckle made her guts clench. "Sweetheart, that was the best orgasm I've ever received that way. You are _truly_ a goddess."

Unfortunately, that wasn't exactly how she'd wanted to be complimented – that was to say, being compared to and of his old girlfriend's oral expertise. She'd been hoping for something more personal, sweeter, gentler, more… loving. Especially after last night's little ritual… whatever that had been about.

Hermione was no fool. She'd been suspicious for the last two days about his obsessive, too focused biting habit, but last night's ceremony – for that was certainly what it had been, no matter how slyly he'd tried to couch it as regular conversation – had tipped his hand that he was up to no good. He'd apparently fallen back on Slytherin trickery to achieve his unknown aims. The only questions were what, specifically, was he up to, and what should she do about it? Did she confront him, require the truth up front (as the old Hermione would have done), or did she let it play out, as he had asked (and as the new Hermione was promised to do), hoping he would not hurt her?

It all came down to how much she trusted him, didn't it?

His past spoke poorly of him, but she'd resolved not to judge the adult Draco by his child self. On the other hand, they'd only known each other for a week as adults, and she didn't have enough personal, one-on-one experience or exposure to him outside of their holiday to judge him correctly, either. All she had to go on were his words and actions, Pansy's spoken observations yesterday and her own instincts (which told her he meant her no harm; that he genuinely wanted them to be together on some level). Was her view of his intentions towards her being tinted by rose-colored glasses in this case?

"I'm… glad that it was… good for you. I liked it, too," she replied a little too fast, feeling strangely uncomfortable all of the sudden. Being indecisive wasn't the norm for her (apparently, Ron's duplicity and manipulation had fucked with her worse than she'd suspected and was only now beginning to truly understand), and finding herself placed in such awkward circumstances was only exacerbating her anxiety. "I… I'm going to take a shower now. I feel a little… unfresh."

Any excuse to get away, the mocking part of her inner self shamed her. Where was her Gryffindor courage for times like this?

She hopped off the bed, feeling strangely vulnerable in her nudity, and made for the bathroom as fast as her feet could move while walking, feeling the weight of Draco's intensely measuring eyes on her the whole way across the room.

Merlin, she'd made a mess of the nice time they'd just had by over-thinking again, hadn't she? Why was love so difficult for her?

Before she could move to pull down a towel from the built-in shelf next to the sink in the Master Bath, Draco appeared in the doorway. In a flash, he tackled her against the vanity. "Where do you think you're going? I want you again," he growled in her ear with possessive carnality, "and it's your turn to cum for me this time." Kicking out at her ankles, he roughly parted her thighs, and dipped his hand immediately between her legs, skipping the foreplay entirely and instead coaxing her slick response all up and down between her lower lips. He hummed again in approval in finding her more than ready. "You want me, too, princess?" he asked, shoving his fingers up and inside her sweltering, soaked pussy. "Say it and I'll give you what you need."

Trembling with need, her eyes tingling with more unshed tears behind her tightly closed lids, Hermione nodded eagerly, once more lost to his spell. "I want you, Draco. Merlin, I want you too much!"

Bending her over the marble surface straight away, he tilted her hips back and rammed himself inside her tight body on the first hard plunge. Without pause, he proceeded to fuck her good from behind, ordering her to open her eyes in an explicit turn of phrase, and making her watch in the large rectangular mirror before them as he pounded away inside her, one hand gripping her waist, the other caressing his favorite spot on her throat with his fingertips. She came quickly, her gaze locked on his until the pressure was too great and she had no choice but to squeeze shut her eyelids. Keening loudly as the wave crested, her fingernails scraped across the smoothed granite stone sharply, a little painfully. Once again, her lover held back his own climax purposefully, stilling instead to feel her reaction around his length and telling her aloud, in great detail about how wonderful she felt milking every inch of him with her rippling inner muscles, and how much he loved the feel of her wrapped around him like a silken glove that fit him perfectly.

When the blissful enchantment withdrew, leaving her emotionally bereft, and her shivering stopped, Draco pulled out, dripping wet, long and thick and hard as iron still. Tugging her into standing, they made for the shower at his instigation, his hand firmly tugging her behind him. He finished them both under the spray with a deep, satisfied groan, as he pinned her against the wall, her thighs wrapped tight around his waist, his mouth latched onto her neck again, buried to the hilt in her moist, wet flesh.

Before letting her drop back down to the floor in the aftermath, he kept her trapped against the matching Italian dark marble wall. "Never leave me like that again," he warned, clearly upset by her earlier actions. "After what you did to me this morning, how good you made me feel… you walking out, acting distant – that stung bad." He tongued his favorite bite mark on her throat, making her shiver all over again. "Don't you know how you unmake me, woman? I've never wanted anyone as much as you. I've never known this feeling before." He pulled his mouth away from her neck, looked her straight in the eye now, unflinching. "You're important to me, Hermione. So _gods damned_ important, that your happiness comes before my own now. Believe that."

Blinking back her tears was ineffective. They spilled down her cheeks, hot whiplashes against her skin, reminding her of how far she was plummeting. "I… feel the same," she admitted in a small voice, reaching up one shaky hand and touching his cheek tentatively. "And I'm scared."

Their souls connected in their unwavering eye lock after that pronouncement, and once more, Hermione felt herself falling… falling…

"Don't be," he finally bid in a firm tone, confidently leaning in to press his lips to hers in a tender kiss. "I won't hurt you. I'm not your ex-husband." His hands shifted her slightly, so he could pull out. Slowly, he lowered her feet to the floor, holding her in place using the incredible strength of his arms alone.

What could she say to that? Absolutely nothing. Because only time would tell whether he would stomp all over her heart, just like Ron had… and there was no question now that she _was_ going to, eventually, hand him over her heart. It was just a matter of when she made the delivery.

X~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~X

After finishing up their shower (Draco playfully washing her up and talking about the day's plans in an attempt to change her pensive mood), they toweled up and quickly got dressed. He summoned his house elf, Henny, with a request for the diminutive creature to clean up the chateaux behind them, and then to deliver their luggage to the villa in Positano, dropping it off directly in the Master Bedroom Suite. Then, Hermione once more fell into Draco's embrace as he Side-Along Apparated them to his family's property in Italy for mid-morning breakfast.

Her first view of the villa was the front entrance from the outside, and she was literally left speechless at the beauty that greeted her.

The building was made of two types of golden-beige stone, with a red clay tile roof. It stood two stories, with an attached tower that went to a third floor, and extended on both sides out the length of at least a regulation Quidditch pitch. Large date palms lined the giant arched, carved doorway. A small fountain graced the tamped dirt drive, and grass dotted on either side, along with various, neatly groomed shrubberies. The house sat on a prominent, private ledge area overlooking the city, which was built into the hillside above the ocean, and the air smelled of lemons and oranges and freshly cut lawn.

"Oh, it's _beautiful!_" she breathed in surprise, her eyes widening in awe.

Draco shrugged nonchalantly, but she could see he was pleased with her assessment, and took her hand, leading her to the front entrance. Waving his wand to unlock the spells about the place, he opened the door and whisked her through the front foyer and up the stairs to the third floor tower.

A round, wooden table and wicker furniture were situated in the middle of the brick-laid flooring here in this high minaret, and there was a perfect 360 degree open view all around, as the walls were made of tall windows, bracketed only at the bottom with wallboard.

Summoning a different house elf, Aldofritz was his name, Draco politely requested that the little creature (who was probably the ugliest specimen of his species Hermione had ever seen, honestly, with overly large ears that draped past his scrawny shoulders, one eye smaller than the other and slightly drooping, and a hook nose) prepare them breakfast and have it delivered to the tower where they now stood. With a legitimate smile at being given a worthy task and a snap of his fingers, the elf left to fulfill his tasks.

"Your elves seem rather happy," she noted, still a bit uncomfortable with the idea of using the pint-sized creatures as servants, even though long ago she'd reconciled that elves didn't actually want to be freed, nor to do anything else but serve human wizards (she'd worked for years on establishing minor Being's rights, only to discover that the elves themselves formed a coalition against her attempts, confronting her with their demands that she halt her work immediately on their behalf; it had been a disheartening defeat, needless to say, but it had opened her eyes to her own arrogance, and helped to humble her some).

Draco nodded and turned to looked out over at the view of the ocean, hands shoved in the pockets of his well-tailored slacks. His handsome profile remained to her, and she noted that his face seemed rather introspective. "Henny has been living with us in France since I reopened the house a few years back. It was my grandmother's family home on my father's side – she was the last of the wizarding Belcier family. After she passed, my father had it closed up. Henny keeps the place tidy for me now, in case I need it while on travel. She's quite an excellent cook. The next time we go there, you'll see. I'll have her whip you up whatever you want."

Hermione swallowed. The next time… Would there be a next time to visit his French chateaux? It held so many wonderful memories for her now. She hoped – prayed - that there would be a next time, yes.

"Aldofitz is… different, I admit," her lover continued. "To be honest, I almost didn't hire him because he was so deformed. His ugliness offended me - well, the person I used to be a few years back, anyway." A small smile tweaked the side of his luscious mouth. "But the strangest thing happened the day he applied for the job: I suddenly remembered a girl once lecturing me that just because something wasn't pretty didn't mean it wasn't useful." He chuckled low and shook his head in amused amazement, making things tighten in Hermione's abdomen. She remembered that particular conversation from their Fourth Year during Care of Magical Creatures class. She hadn't realized Malfoy had actually cared enough to pay attention.

But then, hadn't he said something to her a few days ago that suspiciously sounded like he'd been paying a lot more attention to her in school than she'd given him credit for? He'd noticed her Yule Ball dress, he'd confessed – had noticed her in _that way_ that night, too, apparently.

_"I've seduced you with my pheromones, Malfoy."_

_"You did that long before today…" _

It was weird really how she couldn't really recall much of anything he'd said to her back in school aside from his awful taunting of "Mudblood."

"You know," Draco knocked her out of her contemplation, "taking that girl's advice and giving him a chance was the second best decision I've ever made in my adult life. Aldofitz is the most attentive and intelligent house elf I've ever known and he performs every duty to perfection. I try to let him know how valued he is at every opportunity so he won't leave me." He looked at her out of the corner of his eye, that smirk of his widening teasingly. "Someone should track down and hire that woman - wherever she may be - for her brilliant forethought. If not for her, I'd have missed out on a valuable employee."

Something he'd said caught her attention. "Second best?" Walking to his side and looking out at the gorgeous view of the ocean lazily sweeping into the harbor, noting the dozens of tiny boats skimming the surface of the water, she absently wondered what he would consider his favorite decision. Probably some business investment, like buying The Pride of Portee Quidditch team and turning them into champions of the League within three short years. That was quite an achievement, after all, since they hadn't made it to the quarter-finals in over two decades.

Stepping smoothly behind her, Draco's arms came around her from behind, snuggling her back tightly against his chest. He rested his mouth right next to her left ear, and when he spoke in that low, smooth voice of his, pixies took off in her belly once more. "Can you guess what my favorite decision has been, Granger?"

Joy exploded within as she took his hint at face value. "The Prides, right?" she teased with a lopsided grin. "They _were_ a rather smart investment after all, considering how much money and celebrity they've brought you since winning the Championship this last year."

Pleasurable kisses and nips pressed against her neck, and he nuzzled her earlobe sensually. "No, princess. They weren't my _best_ investment in the future, although, as you say, they were rather smart to pick up." His mouth touched down on his favorite spot, causing everything inside to prepare itself for sexual fulfillment once again, tightening, dampening, racing. His magical aura gently caressed hers once more, stroking up and down erotically.

"N…no?" she asked in a near whisper, stammering in anticipation. "Then what?"

He bit her bruised neck lightly, reasserting his claim upon her once more. "The day I located you finally at that café and took a chance that you wouldn't hex me on the spot if I were to try to talk to you. When I walked over… yeah, _that_ was the best decision I've ever made, hands down."

Her heart pounded out its airy happiness with powerful, repetitional beats, fluttering on wings of exultation.

Wings…

Had she just imagined what she'd seen this morning? The more she considered all that she knew, putting together all the facts and hints and suspicions, the less likely that seemed to be the case. Hermione may be currently swept up in a surprisingly compelling romance, but that didn't mean she was foolish. Maybe it was time to find out his real intentions, before things went too far and there was no going back.

She'd made her decision, finally, bucking her courage to weather the storm that she would unleash next…

"Draco?"

He ran his lips over her skin lightly. "Hmmm? Yes, Granger?"

"I need you to answer something for me truthfully," she began, swallowed back a moment of trepidation, and then plowed ahead, adjusting her glasses nervously. "Will you please tell me what last night's ritual was all about?"

He literally stopped all movement – his mouth halted in mid-kiss, his hands discontinued their soft tickling of her mid-section, and his breathing simply ceased all together. The extended pause suddenly created a thick tension in the air that was both awkward and a little scary.

In her ears, Hermione's heart beat was loud, threatening to drown out the good feelings she'd just been experiencing. Maybe it was a mistake to press this point now, but she'd been wondering why, from almost the beginning back in Paris, this wizard whom she'd grown up with and never sensed anything odd about had suddenly, as an adult, been able to affect her aura so. He'd been able to coax desire from her in such strength that the tiny serpent figurine she'd given him – which had been unknowingly bespelled with a Lust Charm, he'd said – hadn't even effected her, because she'd already been that much head-over-heels for him… which shouldn't have been possible, given their _great_ past dislike of each other (something she'd pretty much disregarded every time he touched her).

That kind of power, plus the hints he'd dropped since – the carefully chosen words about Pureblooded families, his taking off to do some odd research that he wouldn't share the particulars of with her, Pansy's queer comments the other morning, and the blood sipping he'd been indulging in at her throat, not to mention that queer vision this morning - told her he was more than he appeared.

"I know you've been courting me since the second day we were together. The tradition isn't quite human, either. And I know you've been biting me and tasting my blood to mark me as part of that custom," she stated simply, feeling her guts slipping around like eels under the flesh. "I'm guessing you're part magical Being. If not, maybe you're under a curse of some kind? If you're the former, what are you exactly?"

"Hermione…" His voice was so soft, so sincerely uneasy. "I…" He was trying to control his body's sudden nervous shaking, and pressed his forehead into the back of her curly hair. "_Shit_, I don't know what to say. I'm not ready to have this conversation yet. I…"

She turned in his arms and put her fingertips over his lips for a second, giving him an out, trying and wanting to trust him, despite what she thought she knew about his actions of late. "Just tell me this much: will what you're doing bind me to you irrevocably?" she asked, her heart in her throat. "Because I wouldn't want my ability to make my own choices taken away ever again. Ron hurt me when he tried that. Please say you haven't done that to me, too. Not after I've trusted you this far."

She felt his throat convulse on a deep, apprehensive, thick swallow. He looked so frightened suddenly – a look she'd only ever seen on his face back when Voldemort had taken up residence in his home years ago. Removing her hands, she placed them on his chest and looked up at him, waiting for an explanation, terrified of his response.

"No, I wouldn't do that to you, I promise," he tried to reassure her, and she could taste the truth in his words. "I've known how you felt about the idea of being trapped by a man since the day I came back into Paris and we discussed the topic of your presentation at the symposium and your feelings about your ex-husband. And I… I don't want you to be compelled to be with me. I want you to want me of your own free will. I want what we have to be different, special." He sighed heavily and his forehead touched down on hers. "I'm… I can't tell you what I'm doing yet. It could ruin things. Just _please_, trust me a little longer. Give me the time, Hermione, and I swear to you I'll explain everything when it's done."

She took a deep breath.

_Jump or stay safely on the cliff._ It was a saying her mother used to impress upon her as a child when there was a decision to be made. Waffling only prolonged the agony, she'd been told, and usually caused too many misunderstandings.

So it was with bravado (hopefully not misplaced) that she decided to jump once more for this man.

"How much longer?" she asked, and she could feel the tension flow out of him, and he closed his eyes in relief with a small sigh.

Nuzzling her nose with his, he peeked at her through his long, golden lashes. "I need the full month of your holiday – the night of the next full moon - if you'll give me that."

She considered his answer, realizing that she could knock one more possibility off her list with this answer. "You're not a Vampire, then. They don't have mating rituals, much less ones tied to a lunar cycle."

He shook his head. "Please don't try to guess. It might… interfere." Pulling away, he stepped back from her and took her hands in his, seeming very vulnerable right then, his face and body tight with stress. "Know I won't physically hurt you, Granger. I'll only ever give you pleasure. Believe that, _please_." He cupped her cheek with one hand, mercurial eyes earnestly supplicating.

Hermione sighed and leaned into his touch, closing her eyes, willing away her anxiety, telling herself she must be mad for agreeing to this idea. "Okay. I'll try to be patient." Glancing through her lashes at him, she smiled forlornly. "It'll drive me crazy not knowing, and I may get angry with you for it at some point, but… I'll wait to find out what the big mystery is."

Draco looked wary still. "You won't run though – not even in the middle? You'll let this play out between us?"

She blinked, considered carefully for a few seconds, and then nodded. "I won't run. I'll trust you, like you asked." Lifting her index finger and arching an eyebrow at him, she poked him in the nose and spoke sternly, using the same tone she usually reserved for Harry when he needed a reminder of how far she'd let him push her before she pushed back. "But if you burn me, Malfoy, so help me, I'll hex your arse into the next century."

His relief was palpable; his eyes shut, his body shuddered, and he leaned forward to press a kiss to her forehead again. "There's my Gryffindor Princess – all gutsy and bossy. I love it."

Hermione chuckled lightly, wrapping her arms about his neck and resting against his warm chest, seeking reassurance and comfort that she'd just made the right decision. "I'll remember that tonight when I take you to bed."

He snickered wickedly, but under her ear, she noted that Draco's heart was hammering in disquietude, too.

X~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~X

After breakfast, Draco gave her the grand tour of the house and grounds. The villa was a magical place, with an Italian country feel to the rooms. It contained a Roman-styled rounded marble bathtub in the Master Bath, a huge King mattress in the Master Bedroom, a library stacked with books from several centuries and comfy cozy chairs (just like the Gryffindor Common Room, almost!), a Renaissance-styled kitchen with stone tiled flooring and an old fashioned Victorian stove that dominated the room, a more formal, intimate dining area with seating for eight, an indoor pool decorated on either side by statues of mythological Roman deities, and lots of empty bedrooms with attached bathing facilities. Her favorite part of the house, however, was the large outside terrace, which was landscaped beautifully and contained a large Jacuzzi tub overlooking the ocean.

The view was gorgeous, sitting high on a Cliffside, overlooking the arcing stretch of Muggle civilization below. How many wizards and witches lived here, she wondered? She wanted to go breathe in the life of the city, so Draco took her shopping down a side alley, that (of course), magically opened up with the right wave of a wand to a glass-roofed alley full of shops, selling everything from fresh flowers to pastries to wizarding supplies (the typical cauldrons, pet care, apothecary potions and ingredients, wand repair, writing implements, and various other necessities) to clothes (the Italians were much more hip to integrating Muggle fashion into their styles and everyday wear, blending in better than their British counterparts). There was even a very small Gringotts branch at the far end.

After withdrawing some funds from her account held in trust by the goblins, Hermione immediately set to shopping for her friends, replacing the scarf she would have gifted to Molly (but had to use herself, thanks to Draco's little biting habit) with a pretty Italian version made of silk (in Molly's favorite maroon color). She then purchased a set of four enchanted shot glasses charmed to change the color of the liquid inside randomly for Harry's holiday gift (he liked gag presents and he liked to drink, so these glasses were a perfect combination), and a gold and silver working Astrolobe from the eighth century A.D. for his up-coming birthday (he also loved old artifacts from the wizarding world, even though Hermione found such items – used for Divination purposes - to be frivolous).

They ate a light lunch fare there in the market – a slice of Margherita pizza each and a fizzy blood orange drink whose bubbles tickled her nose – and then walked down to the waterfront.

"There's a private terrace attached to the house that leads down into a secluded cove," Draco enticed, wrapping his arms about her, leaning his mouth next to the shell of her ear. "The water's warm, and its charmed to prevent prying eyes…"

Hermione smiled, still a little sore after their morning's rough sexual encounter. She told him this, but instead of being deterred, Draco simply played dirty and bit her on his favorite spot on her neck, causing instant desire to flood through her, leaving her limbs tingling, her breasts heavy and aching, and her core heated. "Cheater," she accused with a grin.

"Slytherin in the soul," he reiterated again as he breathed hotly against her flesh, suckling lightly over his bite mark, making her weak kneed. "We don't have to make love. I just want to see you in a swimsuit."

Hermione snorted indelicately. "You not wanting to have sex? Is the sky falling, too?" She smiled in genuine amusement, her lips pressed to his lightly. "I didn't bring a suit to the conference, and haven't had time to go back to my flat in London to get one."

Her lover's eyes lit up. "You mean we get to go bikini shopping together? Brilliant! Let's go now!"

Rolling her eyes and grinning silly, Hermione let Draco tug her back into the city and they went shopping for "appropriate bathing attire." He dragged her to three shops (and molested her continuously in the changing rooms when no one was about) before they found what he determined was the perfect suit for her body. It was a gold bikini that was very lightly spotted with shimmery bronze. It looked stunning against her skin tone and hair color, and she felt very sexy in it. Her lover, of course, adored it… so much that he wanted to fuck her right there in the changing room with it on her (she had to remind him that they hadn't even paid for the suit yet, and therefore shouldn't have intercourse in it… then she allowed him to go down on her and eat her out in it instead).

After she recovered from another breath-stealing orgasm (seriously, her man was _ravenously_ oversexed, and he was making her just as lustful), they made their purchase, and then he Apparated them back to his villa where they changed into their swim gear, grabbed some towels, and headed out. They went down a long flight of stairs built into the side of the cliff towards a small rock shelf that terminated at the water (it had been smoothed with plaster at some point to protect one's feet, she duly noted). There were two rattan pool loungers secured to the stone, and at the edge of the rock jetty, a golden ladder that led directly into the cobalt sea. The cove was certainly secluded, she noted, although it did open up at the end, and she worried for their privacy. What if Muggles happened across them accidentally?

"Relax. It's charmed, I told you," her blonde wizard reassured her, holding a hand out to her as he descending the stairs into the azure foam. "Anyone looking at this spot will see a wall, and if they touch it, they'll be repelled backwards as if they'd actually hit one. They can't hear us either. We can be as naughty as we want," he joked, waggling his golden eyebrows lasciviously. "Come on in. The water's nice and it's not deep here."

Throwing her towel down next to his on one of the rattan beds, Hermione took Draco's hand and let him lead her in safely. It was absolutely wonderful – just the right temperature, the salty air lightly fragranced by the creeping jasmine that made its way down the cliff side, and no rocks under her toes, just warm, soft sand.

Hermione had always been somewhat hesitant about the ocean, knowing what creatures lurked under its surface (magical and not alike). As a child, when her parents would take her to the beach, she'd usually wade by the shore, not going deeper than her waist. Now, however, she felt safe enough to dunk herself under the lightly lapping waves, wetting her hair and face, and for the first time in her life, she floated on her back, staring up at the cerulean sky above, which was dotted with fluffy clouds. "This is wonderful," she admitted, paddling over to Draco, grabbing hold of his hips and pulling herself up, letting the water carry the majority of her weight. "You were right."

An arrogant smirk wound up one pale cheek. "Of course I was. Granger, you're going to have to learn to trust me. I know what of I speak."

Wrapping her arms about his neck, she coaxed his head into bending so they could touch noses. She looked at him sincerely. "I like being with you," she admitted. "Not just for the sex, but for you. You make me feel _so alive_." Squinching her brows down in confusion, she bit her lip for a second, trying to order her riotous thoughts. "I… I haven't had a lot of fun in my life, truthfully. In school, I was trying to prove something, keep Harry and Ron alive, fight for my friends and family. I only enjoyed myself a few times – cheering at Quidditch games, dancing at the Yule Ball, going to Hogsmeade for a butterbeer with friends. After the war, it was all about mourning, rebuilding, and moving on. I did that by throwing myself into work and trying to be a good wife, but… I've never felt like I was really _living_. Not until this happened. My life was definitely boring until you came along, Malfoy."

Draco nodded, letting one hand rest on her hip while the other smoothed up her body, over her arm and shoulder, to cup her cheek. His steely eyes – so icy cold when they'd been kids – now held such warmth. "I get that. _Really_, I do." He kissed her quickly to assure her of his earnestness. "And I'm glad you didn't hex me that afternoon I approached you at the café, too."

They made out for a while up against the stone shelf. They kissed and tongued, he fingered her, she stroked him, and when neither could resist any further, they scurried up onto the rattan to fool around some more. They didn't actually make love, simply explored each other slowly, spending hours learning about the other's most intimate pleasures and thoughts. They brought each other with hands and mouths and it was _absolutely fantastic_. That afternoon was significant bonding time spent, and served to reassure Hermione that Draco was serious about her, calming her earlier doubts.

As they made their way back up the stairs slowly, both rather exhausted, they held hands and smiled like fools, and she realized by the time they'd hit the top of the crag that she was already miraculously, resplendently, and foolishly half in love with this man by her side.

Today had been the best day of Hermione's life, she believed wholeheartedly... one she would never forget, for sure.

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTES:**

"_**I suddenly remembered hearing a girl lecturing me that just because something wasn't pretty didn't mean it wasn't useful."**_** – Hermione once said something like this in Care of Magical Creatures class directly to Malfoy in response to his sarcastic comments about Blast-Ended Skrewts ("Goblet of Fire" – Chapter 13, page 196).**

**Pride of Portee – A real Quidditch team mentioned in "Quidditch Through The Ages" by J.K.R. They come from the Isle of Skye, and were founded in 1292. The "Prides" as they are also known to fans, wear deep purple robed with a gold star on the chest. They had two League wins back in the 1960's. That's their most famous achievement, apparently, according to the book.**

**Belcier Family – A real life, important family of the French nobility in the Bordeaux and Libourne areas. They were Counts who made their mark in the wine industry.**

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTE AS OF 25 NOVEMBER, 2011**

**Dear loyal readers, **

**Sadly, I put this fic up for adoption, because I simply don't have the time to finish it (too many projects already). Thankfully, a writer - CKLLS - has already contacted me about finishing it. Once I get her story URL, I'll post it here so you can read her version of what happens after this point in the story!**

**I hope you'll sincerely give Cklls' version a chance. She is a fabulous writer with an established Dramione author reputation!**

**Thank you for your love and support of this story!**

**- RZZMG**


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